#tw abusive work environment
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Bad Things Happen Bingo: Distress Call
TW: Domestic violence, victim blaming for the same, implied self-injury, family death and abandonment, abusive employment relationship.
*****
Voicemail from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 05-25-2026 at 20:23 MST:
“Hi Dad. I know you won’t get this, but. Sometimes I’m glad this voicemail is still up. Pretty dumb, huh? Anyways. Things are going really well here. The Director’s already promoting me to Lead Technician! He might even be having me write part of his next paper for a journal. Man, I’d love to see the look on my teachers’ faces now. Fuck those guys, right? The experiments can be pretty intense, but I’m managing. It’s all gonna make things better for everyone in the end, right? Anyways. Talk to you — well. I’ll call again soon. I. I miss you. Bye.”
—
Text message exchange between ALICIA JACOBSON and BARCLAY FLETCHER on 09-21-2026 between 17:15 and 17:35 MST:
“Hi! You on your way?”
“sorry can’t make it running behind with work”
“You said that the last time too”
“Look I was hoping to talk to you about this today so I’ll just say it here”
“Maybe it’s none of my business but I read that paper you wrote and”
“Did you really test that on PEOPLE???”
“you’re right it really isn’t your business”
“I’m worried about you”
“well don’t be”
“You’re not like this”
“i’m not like i was in school you mean”
“good”
“i was headed nowhere before the director picked me”
“That’s not true”
“anyway i’ve got a meeting with him now gotta go”
“give me a call when you’re not going to lecture me”
“Look if you ever need help getting out, just let me know, okay???”
“I’ll always be here for you if you need me”
“Love you”
—
Voicemail from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 01-14-2027 at 19:55 MST:
“Hey, um, Dad… [Yawn.] It’s been a while. But I guess it doesn’t make much of a difference, right? Ha… It’s been kind of rough. Not — nothing I can’t handle, I mean. Just, one of those things downstairs went and bit me the other day. Can you believe that? It just fucking bit me. Don’t worry, I taught it a lesson. The bite still hurts like hell, though. Eh, I’ll deal. I’m going to present at this big genetics conference next week about the paper I just finished. My name was even on it! Pretty cool, huh? Anyway, if I do well, I’m hoping the Director will cut me some slack over the whole… I won’t get into it. But then, if you could really hear this, maybe you’d have some advice. Anyway. Bye for now.”
—
from BARCLAY FLETCHER to ALICIA JACOBSON on 10-28-2027 at 14:33 MST:
“hey sorry for falling off the face of the earth”
“can we tlak”
“* talk (haven’t slept in 4 days now haha)”
“look i can’t talk about it here but its kind of important”
—
Call from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 10-28-2027 at 23:46 MST:
I’m sorry, the voicemail box for the person you’re calling is currently full. Please try again later.
“…Fuck.”
—
Voicemail from BARCLAY FLETCHER to MELISSA BENNETT on 11-14-2027 at 20:01 MST:
“Hey Mom? So… It’s been a while. I know... I know it didn’t go great last time. But could you maybe give me a call? I. I need to talk about something. After the stuff you told me about last time, I just hoped you might know what to do. If I’m blowing this out of proportion, or… I just need to talk, okay?! I know you’re mad at Dad, but he’s dead, and it’s not my fucking fault if he did the kind of things you said. I was a kid. So maybe cut me some slack and give me a chance. Please. Or don’t, I guess. Love you. Bye.”
—
Text message exchange between MELISSA BENNETT and BARCLAY FLETCHER on 11-14-2027 between 20:05 and 20:11 MST:
“Don’t call me again.”
“are you kidding”
“you couldn’t even work up the guts to “ —
Your message could not be sent.
“seriously?”
Your message could not be sent.
“you said all this stuff about dad, abuse this cheating that, acting like you’re better or whatever. guess what though you’re not”
Your message could not be sent.
“good people don’t give up on their kids”
Your message could not be sent.
“you know what, maybe dad did hit you. can’t blame him”
Your message could not be sent.
“fucking bitch”
Your message could not be sent.
—
Messages from BARCLAY FLETCHER to ALICIA JACOBSON on 11-14-2027 at 20:15-20:17 MST:
“so it’s like that then”
“‘oh I’ll always be there barclay if you need out of there just call me barclay barclay please let me help~’”
“guess that was all bullshit”
“so bye”
—
Message from BARCLAY FLETCHER to JASON FLETCHER on 12-25-2027 at 21:21-21:23 MST:
“hey dad I tried calling a while back but your vm box is full (my fault haha)”
This number is out of service.
“guess this is really it huh”
This number is out of service.
“love you”
This number is out of service.
—
Draft message from BARCLAY FLETCHER to MELISSA BENNETT, last modified on 12-31-2027 at 21:55 MST:
“you’re probably not going to get this but I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it I just get stressed out and it makes me say some stupid shit and okay wow when I say it like that I wouldn’t talk to me either so nevermind”
—
“Clay?”
Barclay didn’t move from his position of being slumped forward in his seat as he clutched the phone in his shaking hand. The Director’s voice was kind, concerned even, but Barclay didn’t want his mentor seeing him like this, and he didn’t trust his voice not to break if he said anything.
He startled when a stray tear drop hit the screen with an audible plop.
“Clay, what’s wrong? Here, let me see,” Richardson insisted, pulling the phone from his hand.
Barclay didn’t resist.
“Oh, Clay…” the Director said as he scrolled through his texts, his voice filled with concern. Or disappointment. “I hate seeing you hurt yourself like this.”
Barclay ducked his head and shoved his hands under his armpits, hoping the Director wouldn’t ask to see his wrists. “It’s fine, sir. Really,” he muttered.
The Director stopped scrolling at a certain point, and for a second he scowled down at his protegé.
Barclay closed in on himself further, bracing for the worst.
The Director’s expression softened. “I can’t let you keep doing this,” he said in a firm but gentle tone, pocketing the phone. “You deserve better that to have such unreliable people in your life.”
“But…!” Barclay protested, jerking his head up to look at the Director with wide eyes.
The Director cocked an eyebrow in warning, though his kind smile remained unchanged.
“O-of course. Thank you, sir,” Barclay quickly corrected himself, looking back down with a tense smile.
He should be happy. The Director, at least, was still there for him, no matter how many times he’d screwed up. So the rest of it… it was all worth it, right?
—
Messages from ALICIA JACOBSON to BARCLAY FLETCHER on 06-17-2028 at 16:42 MST:
“OMG I’m so sorry. Are you OK???”
“I just saw this”
“A lot of stuff happened. I had to get a new phone. I’ll tell you all about it”
“Whenever you want to talk”
“My offer still stands by the way”
“Barclay???”
“I don’t know if you’re getting these, but please be OK. Love you lots”
This number is out of service.
*****
Director David Richardson and Alicia Jacobson are @skinofafish’s characters. Barclay Fletcher, Jason Fletcher, and Melissa Bennett are my characters.
#bad things happen bingo#creepy whumper#distress call#Barclay Fletcher#Director David Richardson#whump writing#The Enclave#tw domestic violence#tw victim blaming#tw self injury#tw abusive work environment
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"Ever since the Navy increased its pay, quite a few joined... Button's lieutenant, and I a petty officer 2nd class.. but its good pay... just that I have to well....uh..m take it like stallion? Yeah." - Pip
"Pip, that's an abusive work environment. I don't like that. You should look for another job, or at least report this."
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I honestly just need a fic where someone calls literally everyone out on their bullshit. And by their bullshit I mean the way they treat Jamie. Because everyone in that show has wrong him at least once. I’d argue that the people who wronged him the least were Pep, Nate, Higgins, Trent, and maybe Keeley but that’s a little debatable still. Like maybe it can be Dr. Fieldstone or maybe it can just be an outsider. But I just need it to happen.
The way people treat him in season 2 & 3 ( and even in some scenes in season 1) is just NOT RIGHT. Like they literally just walk all over him half the time??? Don’t get me wrong, the team and the others CAN be supportive and kind to Jamie, but sometimes they’re just straight up toxic dicks too. Even in season 1, half of the time Jamie was being “a prick” he was really just on the defensive ?? Like Roy also does some pretty fucked up shit but nobody calls him out on it because he’s the team captain. Like he literally fucking head butted Colin and could’ve given him a really bad concussion, but since Colin was being a prick first that just makes it okay???? Roy instigates and escalates multiple fights with Jamie, yet Jamie gets benched for being a dick to Sam ( which might’ve been deserved, but then Roy should’ve been benched as well).
Then in season 2, we see the team get incredibly angry with Jamie once he comes back. Which is just??? It seems like Ted just let them stew in their anger towards Jamie instead of actually talking to them about it. Like the fact that they’re upset about stuff that happened before he left, even though they didn’t seem angry at him right before he left. Like where was this anger towards Jamie before? I honestly think they were just using any excuse to take their negative emotions out in Jamie. Like you’re seriously telling me that Bumbercatch was upset about Jamie flirting with his mom when that happened probably months before? That Richard was so angry he had to talk in French because Jamie cupped a fart and put it in face? That Colin was pissed about an insult Jamie made that sounded like a 3rd grader came up with?? Isaac pretty much hit the nail on the head when he blamed Jamie for getting them relegated, because that’s what they were all actually angry about. Additionally, I think it’s very telling that Sam, who was the one Jamie picked on the most, was silent throughout that whole thing. I honestly think that Sam was the only one who was at least a little curious about whether Jamie had truly changed, and who actually wanted to give him a chance. But he wanted Jamie to work for it, which is fair all things considered.
I think the person who treats him the worst in season 2 ( besides his father) is probably Ted because of much he ignores Jamie’s issues with his father, and he fails to see the influence he’s had on Jamie and his self esteem. Like the way Ted doesn’t even tell Jamie that he didn’t send him away??? He could’ve at least cleared up that Jamie wasn’t send away cause of his attitude or whatever.
Anyways, I’ve already spoken on the teams many fuck ups with Jamie season 3 before so I’ll keep this short. The entire Zava situation was creating a toxic work environment and everyone except Jamie was feeding into that toxicity. Nobody speaks up for Jamie when Roy is a dick to him all the time. Nobody apologizes. They yell at him for stupid shit. They fail to notice how much he’s struggling until he spells it out for them. Roy and his whole macho dick fight with Keeley.
Anyways, they’ve been pretty shit to Jamie and deserve to have someone point that out to them.
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Bouncing off my last post, anyone else on here over the age of 25 have like 5 million (exaggeration?) jobs on their resume and are super self conscious about that?
As a kid, we were always told that having too many jobs on a resume (or basically, bouncing from job to job) would lead employers to think you're not loyal to a company and can't hold down a steady job, so therefore they would be much less likely to hire you.
I feel like maybe that was the case when I was growing up, but in my experience I still get hired anyway because places were so desperately short-staffed because they were also an awful place to work.
But anyway, I'm always ashamed when I start to reveal to people how many jobs I've had because I feel like it really does mean what I was always told it means.
I don't know where this post is going other than that I think jobs need to stop being so incredibly toxic that workers would rather pass out, SH, or unalive themselves than be at work, causing them to frequently change jobs.
And also is this a more common experience than we are led to believe?
#mdd#ptsd#mental health#abuse survivor#toxic workplace#toxic work environment#anxiet#tw self harm#tw sui ideation#job hunting#job search
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Around the Bureaucracy in +80 Days: 5 Weeks in Hell — Where is Em?
TW unaliving, self harm, harmful thoughts, domestic violence, depression, systemic abuse and the factors that drive/prevent it systematically in Sweden, from one perspective
Part I, the Austerity Measures
Foreword
Today is March 26th as I start writing this, but I am doubtful I'll finish this draft tonight, or this week. When I publish, it might be tomorrow, or the week after, or never. I won't know until this is formulated and I hit post.
The title is a reference to the book "Around the world in 80 days", but the similarities ends there. I just needed a witty title to my experiences, at the expense of a preexisting work.
The State, the Laws, the System
So let me begin as far as I can go back. Because this story is not about me, but about the system around me. The attitudes, the support, and the erosion of it that caused such a thing as mass suicides among vulnerable citizens.
It begins in 2010, our government has become moderate. Some quiet changes has been made to the welfare and benefits system. There is a 180 day cap introduced to the sick pay. And 2012, a specific kind of sick pay (sjukpenning, SP) is created for individuals who has never had a job. The catch?
This is a bottleneck, specifically designed to make it as hard as possible for people entitled to "disability reimbursement" (sjukersättning, SE), formerly called early retirement (förtidspension). If you are below 30, you'd have "activity reimbursement" (aktivitetsersättning, AE).
It's about saving money either way.
The idea is that you would go from AE to SE if your rehabilitation hasn't been fruitful, but you might be placed on SP until you have done your trials. However, while AE & SE have about the same pay (it's adjusted for inflation), SP is not. In the later years, SP has been used to deny people AE as well, due to the 180 day limitation, causing people to become "uninsured", as a way to lower the statistic for people on benefits.
The Numbers
SP, 100% disability is fixed 160 sek/day, no adjustment for inflation
SP has a housing benefit with a cap of 7000 sek, that supposedly is paid the month after (this is what I'm told)
AE, 100% disability in 2023 was 568 sek/day, adjusted for inflation
AE has a housing benefit with a percentile coverage based on cost between 90-75% of your max rent, and is paid the same month
AE also comes with expanded rights to activities that promote rehabilitation, I'm unsure if SE includes this, SP does not. But realistically, with the crashed housing market, and increased rental costs, not even the smallest benefit can cover comfortable living for a disabled person. As in, assistive fitted tools, medication or adjustments. My own numbers were abysmally small by themselves; SP alone was 2560sek (due to delayed/refused housing benefit) and supposedly, at full reimbursement only yields 3712kr, and AE was 11928 (plus a housing benefit of 75% coverage in June 2023) allowed for a much better living standard. The issue lies in the daily allowance; AE is 350% times higher than SP, and SP is well below the minimum existence level. The system is designed to be punishing and harsh, so that people stop being "lazy" and go to work. I'll get back to this in a bit.
Too Sick to work, Too Healthy to be Sick
There is a saying here in Sweden that "you have to be healthy enough to be sick". Damned if you do, damned if you don't.
Along with these statements each state agency behind this has their own derogatory names; Försäkringskassan "Förskräcklingskassan" (akin to "antisocial nonsurance system", more literally "horrible insurance") and Arbetsförmedlingen "Arbetsförnedringen" (Public Humiliation Service, or literally "work humiliation"). I'll just refer to them as FK and AF from now on though, but there is a reason for their "names".
The purpose of these bottlenecks is that our government has since the new financial policies from 1993 that decentralized some institutions (read privatized), decided we need to cut spending on welfare. It's only in 2010 that our government realized the plans, and we now in 2024 have record low reports of people living on welfare.
There is a reason for every number, and the bad math is on full display (this is the so called "9. 0 goal", referring to the median days of sick pay being paid out). Post 2010, there have been reports of people either dying from cut assistance, or simply choosing to end their lives when they have nowhere to go.
Erland, 55 (2018)
Johan 35, (2021) (Source #2)
Sara, 33 (2019)
Linnéa, 22 (2020)
These are only a few names and articles I could pull under the search query "självmord försäkringskassan" on google (these are complete separate instances of welfare from the entire chaos that are the migration policies, although sometimes they overlap). There is a staggering amount of articles, that again and again state that a stable income is one of the foundations to improve mental wellbeing. And that the government knew that cutting welfare came with this risk. And... only in 2022 have they as much lifted the issue in the riksdag.
So why the hubbub? Why raise a fuss? Because aptly put — Sweden has invented a suicide machine, and I'm one causality.
News outlets are reporting of elevated suicide threats to FK staff (source #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, #6) and that the insurance system FK is disregarding the red flags. It's been reported that the case managers are actively encouraged to, or sometimes gets a bonus based on how many people they reject (#2), and has made it a competition in their office. They have also been documented as being callous, derogatory and outright ableist. They will even override doctors medical expertise to pull benefits and sometimes override their NDAs. Due to the toxic work environment, the government agency also has a high turnover.
As of today, Sweden has no legal clause to hold state workers accountable for such grave errors. It was scrapped in 1976, and replaced with a law that has less legal effect. You can report agencies to Justitieombudsmannen (justice ombudsman department), but it often has little effect. Even if you pull FK to court, and you win, they might totally disregard your case. In some cases they might demand a new court trial, in order to make you pay back.
What used to be jokingly memed about, "svensk välfärd" has become somewhat of a zeitgeist of a bygone era, where swedes took pride in sayings like "arrived like a letter in the mail"("som ett brev på posten"), "smooth as the train" ("går som loket/på räls") and so on. All of these referenced phenomena have since become privatized or decentralized with negative effects (#1, #2, #3).
Part II, The Time Frame to Disintegrate a Human
The Basic Understanding of Needs
It doesn't take much to totally annihilate a human and make them be void of any positive feelings of the self.
We can talk about it in terms of psychology, and use something simple like Maslow's pyramid.
The levels are (from bottom to top);
Pysiological Needs (Breathing, Food, Water, Shelter, Clothing, Sleep)
Safety & Security (Health, Employment, Property, Family, Social Ability)
Love & Belonging (Friendship, Family, Intimacy, Sense of Connection)
Self-Esteem (Confidence, Achievement, Respect of Others, the need to be a unique individual)
Self-Actualization (morality, creativity, spontaneity, acceptance, experience purpose, meaning and inner potential)
If we are talking about an already lesser-abled/differently-abled person — because let's be frank — without tools or assistance, some of us are unable to function, rendering us partially or fully disabled. This pyramid becomes the easiest way to explain the ableist droning of "why can't you just...", this is why.
A lot of neurotypical and/or ablebodied seem to lack the architectural skill of designing inclusive systems and societies that promote healthy growth, instead opting for some sort of stick. Usually in a similar fashion to people who say "my parents hit me and I came out fine", but reality is, you get a better growth curve with positive reinforcements and constructive negative reinforcement. Heck, even after owning only one elderly dog of 14 years, I've encountered these preconceived notions that "you can't teach an old dog to sit", mind you, he (the dog was untrained when I got him). Since then, he now knows a bunch of commands, and can almost perfectly heel off-leash. This is with a mostly positive reinforcement regimen, where negative reinforcement has only been used to teach him to avoid danger.
Enough side tracking, back to the main point.
The Calm Before the Storm
So how many days does it take to destroy a human through bureaucratic means?
About 90 days, if you count from my experience. I'll explain it.
It starts with being put on AE, because I was lucky to get on it before the 2012 reform. In Sweden, you also have something called LSS, which is summarized an anti-discrimination law of disabled individuals that includes neurodivergencies. This has mostly shielded me from most bullshit, until now, and allowed me quite a lot of support, which might be why I'm still alive.
Today it's March 27th. 90 days ago it would've been November 22nd, it's actually not that far from reality.
As I mentioned AE only covers you until you turn 30, and then you either have to
a) go into work rehabilitation programs or,
b) apply for SE, which with the new rules is increasingly hard to get.
Even though I could technically and legally qualify for it, my casemanager has told me that she will deny any applications I make. (I'll try to explain this later.)
Timeline Begin!
So in mid December I was scheduled for a "handover meeting", where my AE case manager gave me to a manager overseeing SP and a manager overseeing my case at AF. I had an assistive person attend from the LSS network, that helps specifically with work rehabilitation/education/occupation, abbreviated as EFA.
I was told the following;
My reimbursement would be less than now, but it shouldn't be a problem...
I'll be put on a work training program with AF to be an intern in active training...
I would get some paperwork sent to my home regarding rehabilitation reimbursement, RE ("rehab ersättning"), and was supposed to fill it in. However, I've forgotten the rest of the details, because despite my best efforts being neurodivergent, ND often means information overloading, despite keeping notes. (This will be relevant later.)
All government agencies will work together...
What I wasn't told;
But my reimbursement would be below poverty level, to the degree I could not afford any amenities, including medication to attend "training".
But I would have to apply to any programs/workplaces myself, while my case manager at AF does nothing but criticizes my efforts.
But my case manager at FK overseeing the SP would constantly use veiled legal terms and difficult words to delay or prevent me from applying to the right aid. She would sometimes flat out lie about papers sent, and misinform my social workers calling for clarification, causing paperwork to go missing.
But only in a way that would erode my energy, and in a way to deny me my legally approved LSS services. Claiming that I don't have the right to them and so on.
I'm getting a bit ahead of myself, so let's pull back a bit.
It's January now, so me and EFA draws a battle plan with AF, following the guidelines of FK. My month is mostly normal, I contact my doctor, apply for a new ID, take out my medications, work out, care for the dog.
Mid month, I talk with FK and get told what is going to happen. The only reason I know this is because my external memory is a notebook and a paper calendar with color coding. My notes from December-January state I was supposed to apply for;
a) SP with housing benefits
b) apply for SE if I can't work
c) fill in a form for RE and send it in
Don't report later than February 1st, and there will be a meeting with the case managers. To summarize, my notes are twice the size in bullets and span pages per meeting and task, each page with stick-ns and post-its (so you can see how easily someone gets overwhelmed).
Somehow I managed to get this step done, minus RE, because I forgot what the one prior case manager said (but it's still relevant to the story).
It's already just barely 4 weeks in, and we are already tangenting level #2 of Maslow's famous pyramid.
Oblivious to my abysmal future, I carry on, doing my best, trying to ignore the gut feeling (always trust it).
It rolls over to February, I send in the some papers, because I am not sure about what they mean. I couldn't apply in the end of January, and only in early February I understood it as.
Attend my doctors meeting to get the evaluation, and the eerie thing is this guy tells me "Em, from experience I don't think it will work, but they usually don't deny my extended applications for SP". I know he has his reasons of clinical expertise to make a judgement, and in hindsight, guy was right. I wasn't too invested in trying to understand the bureaucratic lingo, as I was in the middle of trying to combat a shortage on one of my daily medications, and I was more focused on solving that issue.
One problem less right?
Dead wrong. So from this day onward, in a picturesque description; it's like you start observing seismic activity on the radar, and you get concerned over the readings, before the actual catastrophe hits.
I keep going though, I wanna be good, I want to show I am a citizen of good standing. My performance anxiety kicks in. I'm placed at a dog daycare, and I make sure to be good with my boss. I never ask for accommodations other than asking that nobody eats peanuts in the kitchen, I use all my assistive tools (corset, orthoses, pain relief, psychotherapeutic medications, planners, custom shoes, etc.). I bring my dog with me initially to work, along with my gear. And I do good, at least I try. I make sure my dog behaves with their pups and help them organize/discuss stuff. Mostly I'm helping with the dog walks (relevant). This is from the 18th onward.
However second week, I'm told that my dog is no longer welcome due to new regulations, and that I need to start taking more/other dogs. Most of their clients are bully-type dogs, which is by no means something bad, but they are strong and have bullish willpower that requires a strong handler with the right physique. Just by comparison — I own a 3,4kg senior toypoodle that has been leash trained, and mostly walks off-leash as part of his training. The dog I was given to walk was a small French bulldog that was used to flexi-leashes and would run into oncoming car traffic any chance she could. I would describe her posture as frog-like due to the sheer pulling. She had a good nature, but horrible leash manners. It seemed she got worse when she was given shorter leads, which could be a sign of frustration.
Imagine handling that daily, intensively for 30-45 minutes. I think anyone would be sore.
On the 23rd FK finally responded to my claim. After being radio silent for a week. On the 24th they approved it, a text stated I'd be entitled to 2560 sek. So I logged into my e-services to make sure it was real, because like I said AE was much higher. In December 2023 they sent a sms statement saying they will be paying me 17589 sek. Anyone with at least one point in logic skill can see there is a huge gap of 15029 sek, you can sort of explain some of it away, but the more you stare, the more of an offensive austerity measure it becomes.
AE broken down looked like;
13036 + 6549 (housing allowance) - 1996 (tax)
Remember how I talked about flexibility and percentages earlier? This is where that stuff matters.
The daily reimbursement is closer to a very low wage job, that can allow you some flexibility. It also comes with a beneficiary card for 25% discounts.
SP broken down;
3200 + (no housing allowance) - 640 (tax)
When the daily allowance is fixed, you get no wiggle room for errors, or extras.
I might have dyscalulia, but I can still use markers, tools and excel sheets to sort my own finances, so I did. I thought there must be some grave mistake. You know, the oblivious to the fact, believing it was a simple solution. DEAD WRONG.
Regardless, I checked my medication stock. I'm running low. Made a journey into town on my way to work between my doctors appointments for newer orthoses and my internship. I showed a clerk at the office my paperslip with the math and said "can you make this work?" I think this was on the 26th or the 27th. She called my case manager, saying I might not even be entitled to SP. My case manager at FK had changed, you know, like that story of Jekyll and Hyde. She became cold, callous.
I had entered a state of panic.
I had friends run my numbers too. And it was all the same, after rent I'd have around 397 sek left. If you ever seen the memes that say "I finally paid rent, now I have a place to starve and freeze in", this is exactly it. I used my adaptive excel sheet to calculate my finances, and cut off anything that isn't essential (not that I had any to begin with). I had so many suggestions as well, I could move theoretically (but rent is still due), I could give up/surrender/sell my dog (and suffer alone).
Regardless of how these numbers went I'd be -4023 every month. Half is just the cost of utilities, you know, heat, water, internet and so on. Half is groceries and medical expenses. I had with assistive tools set up a frugal lifestyle that allowed me some savings. But if you are constantly reliant on new assistive tools, your savings can vanish just like so (a set of shoes with custom soles are usually 3600 sek, my much needed orthoses are 900 sek).
I'm not writing this to e-beg, I'm writing this for you to see, to understand how financially crippling it is to be disabled and in need of tools you can't afford.
And we are still only in February.
So I asked my social workers to help me locate the contacts and numbers for each case manager to rectify this problem. Because I've never been late with rent and it's honestly one of the most stressful situations to be in.
So we called the case manager for SP, and asked, and sought clarification. Did I send in all my papers right? Will I be able to pay my rent? What about RE, because I need to afford my medications. Yes the papers came in. Rent next month, it will be a delay. RE is irrelevant and you won't be reimbursed for your days in training.
Meanwhile me and EFA have weekly meetings, AF decided I should only contact them every 6 weeks for a follow up. I started lifting the fact I will have issues to go to work, both because of my ticket expiring and my lack of access to affordable medication. My casemanager at AF said that any financial questions are to be forwarded to FK. (So I brought them there.) EFA was keen on still hounding them down for me.
It's not like I didn't try, I did. On the 26th(?) I applied for municipal welfare, after being heckled by FK; "if you can't afford anything, apply for welfare". I sat through 1 e-application, 1 phone meeting, 1 physical meeting and at least 2 complementary paperworks, either with a parent and/or social workers. Trying to note down what I needed to do. My welfare, "WF" manager, has been away from work since mid-February. Despite calling weekly to ask who is overseeing my case, so I can pay rent, I never got full answers.
I couldn't sleep, nor afford my meds. I had to chose between my sleep aid, or my daily tablets, so I chose my dailies.
On the 29th I physically broke down, unable to work. My hands stopped functioning. I dropped a mug due to a failing grip, and I recall vividly that day. I let the last of my spotify premium play podcasts run on autoplay sometime during the week, and P3 Dystopia aired an episode on suicides and what drives them.
The three factors mentioned
Economic crisis — I can't afford my living
Isolation — I can't travel freely
Feeling like a burden — Shamed for being less abled
There are a few more, but the short summary gave only 3.
The podcast was more about the statistics, and trends within the genders, than the actual act of it. It also went over preventative measures and buffering effects. Regardless, after hearing that, and glancing over my own situation. I turned to my contact at EFA and said "put me on suicide watch and don't let me go".
The Beginning of the End
It's now March, I've called my landlord and pleaded for help. Asked to postpone my billing, just tried to put out any fire possible while balancing trying to not stress my dog and keeping up with the good girl image. Just trying to survive. I got no good graces left, my landlord won't push anything past March. The welfare system bans you from receiving payments, so I am forced to wait for their evaluations. I feel like I'm standing before the executioner.
I recall the podcast, and the time process it takes to go from just an intrusive thought, to real actionable plans. I cracked a joke at my peers, to synchronize their death watches, nobody would suspect a harmless TF2 meme as my way to say "I'm dying soon, it was nice to know you". A meme is a meme after all.
I think I set it to 2 weeks. That's when my expiry date as a passable good is over. I'm just another carcass thrown to the biowastage grinder, perhaps to end up as fuel somewhere, or just as pure filth.
I thought I wasn't good for anything. A failure. Just a waste of space. That I was better off dead.
I went as far as considering the comfort of my peers, to simply vanish. I won't say how, or with what, as that is how someone else might end up hurting themselves. I imagined remaining gone forever would be better than finding my remains. I also considered my dog, how he's my child, and that he deserved someone better than me.
If you have read this far, you can see how the pyramid of needs have eroded, and it didn't take that long either. You can also see given the sources, that I'm fitting all the criteria for becoming suicidal.
Did you try...x?
It's not like I didn't try. I really did.
At every instance where there was a snag, I referred to my health network. I talked to my occupational therapist about the hands and the internship, and was recommended to ask for help finding an office job because they were mortified regarding the laboring tasks. AF told me I have no redeeming qualifications for that. When I asked in forums for my disabilities what people worked with, I requested to be put on a training program that suit my abilities, again AF said no, I'm not entitled to it. I also asked a friend that works as a job coach what is going wrong, explaining my situation, only to be turned down when I asked AF for an evaluation of my competencies (on their suggestion as this would enable me to find internships faster and enter programs more tailored to me). This past week I learned AF also has something called SIUS consultants, which is a specifically appointed consultant with competencies tailored to disabled individuals. I asked EFA to find out if my AF contact was one, the answer no.
Ground 0
After exhausting all my ideas, all my possible solutions. I had none left, even with LSS at my back, the system won. Last Wednesday I had my final call with FK and AF with EFA.
I once more asked "realistically, how do you think I will manage work, without my assistive tools? Without medication?"
FK replied "seek welfare then"
I replied "I did in February, it's at least 3 weeks waiting time, I can't afford to maintain my health"
Radio silence.
AF chimes in "Em forget the money"
I again reiterated my needs, and asked about RE.
I questioned her on it asking why one is called rehab and the other is called sick in title.
FK then started citing some legal paper, without explaining the differences or why I was sent this paper to begin with. She just kept repeating that they are the same. And I'm wrong and won't get any more money.
They are not the same. They are two different economic programs for different activities and purposes. You can read about them here and here. My issue is I need to verify I do things correct, due to my disability.
After that call I decided, I didn't want to live anymore.
Disability Bingo
So how many conditions qualify for a humane insurance system?
It's individual, and regional. Randomly based on the case manager you get.
I won't state my full medical history because I'm not some zoo animal to watch, but I'll say this.
I have more than 3. The ones that impact my day the most are Ehler-Danlos (hypermobile), AD(H)D (I think it's type C nowadays), and Autism Spectrum Disorder.
When I'm medicated, I'm slightly more prominent on the spectrum, but it's manageable, ASD comes with perks too. EDS require a strict regimen of rest, and regular exercise. I used to lift weight machines to prevent my physical pain and subluxations. Despite the best of efforts, I'm still very limited. I rely on cars and buses, but I'm very much self reliant.
With the right supports I'm a star model for rehabilitation and upward mobility, but denied my basic needs, I'm like a fish out of water, forced to climb a tree.
Due to my severe counts of subluxations, I'm always careful with how I use my body. (I've dislocated my elbow by lifting a phone and opening a car door.)
You hopefully understand my predicament now, and the true scope of my limitations.
Part III — Where are you now?
Inside You There Are Two Beasts
That's how the meme goes.
Inside me,
there's the dark overwhelming monster that wants to kill myself,
and then there is the side that wants to live.
The side that wants lo live has won, for now.
Before I acted on my plans, and undo myself forever, I called 112.
I cried on the phone, told them how I felt. An ambulance came, and they took down my story.
I got placed in urgent psychiatric care with supervision and has mostly slept.
What I told you here is only really the short, and tailored version of actual events. There is so much more I wish I could talk about, but I need you to know.
I. Am. Safe.
My dog, Robin is safe. A friend that knows me has his full care sheet and is updating me.
The hospital knows about my situation, so does my network. Most of them.
I hate opening up to people about myself, to show myself at my most delicate, but maybe this post will stand as a beacon to someone in the dark.
I tried, and I tried real damn hard to get everyone to see and hear me. I shouted on top of my lungs, and only now has I arrived in a place where my weary voice is tuned into.
There was this quote from the Netflix series Midnight Club, it goes something like;
"Here but not here. Gone but not forgotten."
I'm still here, I hope you haven't forgotten me.
And I hope anyone out there, reading and identifying with this, will keep trying.
Someone will hear you.
Today it's the 27th as I write this. I've been hospitalized for about 5 days, and I've slept most of it. I feel like I still have to justify my own existence, even though I don't have to.
Call the hotline, tell your story.
The most disgusting part was that FK still tried to call me, to make sure I was actually sick. Had I not had EFA or LSS... I don't even wanna think about it.
#disbelief#abuse cw#cw vent#cw ableism#cw sui mention#tw sui ideation#ableist bullshit#ableist language cw#neurodivergencies#supportivecare#supportive environment#supportive therapy#disability rights#basic human rights#end homelessness#disability help#trainwreck#holy shit#how do they work#my head huuuurts#i need sleep#i need a vacation#ehlers danlos syndrome#adhd acceptance#autism#asd#autism spectrum disorder#mental health services#mental health#preventivecare
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My family stop making life hard impossible challenge
#hugeggggggggggg I will never have a place to go where I’m not being pushied or charged money#I mean yeah sure paying rent is understandable but they are still making life awful#I work for my stepmom and I feel like if I try to find another job they will raise my rent#not only that they are trying to get me to take out a lone in my name so they can buy stuff. I’m spineless and have to get my friends#to convince me not to#god I just want out#I want to not be living in an abusive environment for once. I know I’ll be free soon enough#but it feels like it’s so far away and I’m not sure if I’ll be completely ok until then.#god and the fucking eye of Sauron that is my boss watching and criticizing everyone’s moves at work#I will never be enough for my family#they are just going to keep pushishing me for not being perfect#I want out. I want out now#tw vent#personal vent#vent#god i’m so tired#the only thing keeping me going is knowing I’ll be able to move out latter this ear#year.
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Chiaroscuro
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dr Ratio x [ Gender Neutral ] Reader
Synopsis: There is a wilted daffodil resting between the pages of Ratio's memories. Tags: POV Dr. Ratio, Fluff and Humor and Angst, Hurt/Comfort (?), Slow-burn (oh my), Right Person Wrong Time (oh dear), Strangers to Friends, Reader is Older than Ratio, We speak in the Language of Flowers here, Literary References and Allusions, Exploration of Academic Struggles, Jealous!Ratio, Exploration of Grief, Slight Yandere!Dr Ratio, My Interpretations of Ratio's Past and Ideologies (because hyv won't tell me), Brief Aventurine Appearance TW(s): Toxic Relationships, Toxic Family Dynamics, Implications of Physical Abuse (not condoned by Ratio) Author's Note: At long last, my ‘thesis’ on Dr. Ratio is finished :') I've been working on this fic since June 2024 and finally gathered enough willpower to push through the rest of it. I started this fic with the sole goal of torturing Ratio but ended up falling in love with him halfway through this fic- as such the direction may have shifted orz Please forgive any unintentional errors and get cozy <3
「 Word Count : 11k 」 「 Artwork Credits 」 「 Read On AO3 」
i. Panorama.
They say, the best years of a human's life are spent before boards painted with chalk scribbles and around those of one's ages, filled with careless laughter and weaving hopes for the distant future.
Veritas Ratio has always disagreed with this belief and backed his own with a multitude of reasoning. For one, those so crowned ‘best years’ are not to be wasted through wishing your fantasies would come to fruition on their own. Secondly, his experiences run contrary to the images illustrated by the majority of the population. Which, fall as it might within the grounds of personal grudge, has enough weight to not be disregarded entirely, he'd argue if necessary.
If confronted on his bitter feelings regarding the schooling years of a person's life, there is a possibility that the erudite Doctor will falter and then incoherently mutter something about it not being a downright horrifying experience.
The chances of receiving further clarification from that point decreases significantly and will be entirely dependent on Ratio's mood, which, isn't perceived to be the most agreeable on most days.
In the rare case that luck shines upon the inquirer and Veritas Ratio's stern edges soften with nostalgia, there will be but one name that'll leave his lips in an uncharacteristically somber cadence.
If certain events had transpired differently, the recollections of that day would've been far sweeter than it is now — but still, the parasite known as nostalgia begs to alter his memories. It attempts to soothe the cuts gained from reaching towards aspirations far beyond his capabilities with cursory glances from the sun, and daisy petals hidden in the crevices of dusty tomes.
In the days Veritas Ratio treaded in an environment where nearly everything was twice his height, carrying expectations no one would bother to understand, he'd pledged to himself to not fold before irrational demands just because he wasn't a sight one would normally see in an institution full of burgeoning adults.
He was no stranger to the attention his genius brought, far more so the unwanted part of it.
Which was why he'd stubbornly made his goals clear to his titular peers within the first week of his attendance, much to their bewilderment.
Any suggestions for free ‘assignment completion service’ was shut down curtly and neither did the prodigious new student bother to partake in other youthful activities — but surprisingly, Veritas's distant countenance hadn't succeeded in putting a dent to his overall popularity.
Perhaps that is the reason the requests for private tutoring sessions and borrowing of notes never did cease, because despite his attitude, no one could deny his intelligence. And that, ultimately became his label in that university. Consequently, no one went out of their way to seek him out unless it concerned academics — except one person.
Ratio thinks he might've been witnessing a meteor streak the night sky instead, because relatively speaking, he couldn't trace where you appeared from with just his bare eyes.
(Though now that he thinks again, it might've been because he'd not bothered to look beyond the white board of the lecture halls, haughty as he'd been.)
—And as momentary as said event, you'd stunned him with an inquiry that did not match any of the others that'd preceded your kind.
“Why are you all alone during lunch, little boy? Whoa, you're studying even now?”
He’d barely missed the astonished gleam in your eyes when he parted from marking an important section from his book in a flinch. The unacquainted sight beside his desk had put the functions of his brain at a temporary standstill, before resuming with a barrage of questions as you observed him rather amusedly.
The small smile that appeared on your face next halted any of those inquiries from gaining voice as Veritas's reflexes worked to catch the objects tossed his way.
“Take these for now. Skipping meals isn't good for you, you know? You can't achieve your dreams if you don't take care of your health first.”
Veritas blinked owlishly at the apple and sandwich now resting on his lap, the words of advice you stated in a rather sing-song tone barely registering in his head as he vacillated between demanding your identity and scoffing at your audacity.
Much to his chagrin, you evaded his burning stare and waltzed out of the vacant lecture hall before he could even open his parched mouth, again.
(What he recalls first before this peculiar interaction now is how the usually mundane sunlight had embraced your form that day.)
He only saw more and more of you from then onwards, much to his initial displeasure. For some mysterious reason, you'd made it your hobby to nag at and subtly coddle him in ways that made any other passing student raise eyebrows.
Whether it be dragging him to places and sometimes forcing him to eat lunch or separating him from his beloved books to 'refresh his mind' at some other corner of the campus, you never faltered ; despite all the scowls and passive aggressive quips he sneaked in.
Only after some research did Veritas discover you to be one among the seniors and, he'd admit it somewhat begrudgingly, you were a senior in every sense of the word.
Although, that knowledge did not aid him in answering the most begging question: why were you going out of your way to guide him through the perilous terrains of university? He'd initially suspected you to demand recompense in the same ways the others coveted.
Perhaps you were an expert manipulator, struggling to wrap up your last year in the institute and as a result, decided to prey on the genius through teasing words and coddling.
Ratio was fully prepared to face you when you showed your true face — except, his hypothesis ended in utter failure as that expected unravelling never came.
So, on another of your usual kidnappings meetings under the old oak tree at the far end of the campus, Veritas decided to soothe the scorching paranoia in his head.
“It’s because you remind me of my little siblings! It's been such a long time since I've seen them and I just really miss them, you know?”
He doesn't know. Neither the sentiments that are apparently driving you to take care of him nor whether you're being sincere.
Here's the most annoying thing about you: despite how much of a genius Veritas is crowned to be, he's experienced repeated failures in deducing what lies beneath that benign smile of yours.
At least there are formulas and theories to explain or, get closer to the enigmas of the universe. But whatever and whoever moulded you into your present state had clearly forgotten to leave a loophole behind for curious minds like his to decipher.
“Besides, I understand how you must be feeling in this environment where everyone is half a decade older than you — even though you like to act tough. I know that there's a seed of loneliness that's ready to burst into a giant tree with the right incentive and you're just holding onto the last of your sanity to not let that happen.”
Ratio's fingers halt midway through flipping to a different page of his book. Your observation silences him long enough to make the rustles of leaves permeate the atmosphere, before he forces his brows to furrow and his lips to quirk down.
“It’s rude to make assumptions about someone you barely know.”
The purple head watched as you leaned against the palm of your hand, as though the sneer on his face was nothing worth fretting.
“Aww, did I catch little Veri off guard? No need to be in such denial, I saw you gape like an owl at my words. But owls are my favorite bird, don't worry!” The hostile expression on his face morphs into surprise as you ruffle his hair with your free hand with more enthusiasm than required.
“Rest assured, I'll take care of you for as long as I'm here, little Veri.”
“I’d appreciate it more if you don’t.”
That earned him a laugh and messier hair.
ii. Anamorphosis
Little Veri.
If there was something he despised more than the shrill voices of his classmates, it'd be that nickname. You might've been accurate in your choice of words in a literal sense, but for the first time, honesty had bruised his ego.
The prodigy was not accustomed to being treated his age, he was always commended as ‘mature’ and being ‘beyond his years’. Yet you had never even bothered mentioning this and instead, always poked at the suppressed child that slumbered at the deepest corner of his heart.
What he loathed even more was how every repeat of that ridiculous nickname actually made him feel quote-on-quote ‘little’. No, how you allowed a leeway for that teenage heart to peek through from under a canopy of knowledge and caution.
Intentionally or not, you carved a shelter for that little boy to crawl beneath in moments that no one would care to glance at.
It was a matter of great shame although, while his teachers had handed him the basics to deciphering the laws of the universe, no one had bothered to teach him how to respond to such kindness.
Upon further digging, the genius was surprised to find that your merit resided in the top five of your entire year. While he hadn't taken you for a dimwit (he'd rather eat dirt than utter such sacrilege) his astonishment stemmed from the fact that he'd never seen an academic material accompanying you on campus.
He’d even thought your sole task was to bother him with your half-a-decade years old wisdom upon a particular session of agitation. But after clarity grasped his mind, he realized that his suspicions were simply baseless in an institution as competitive as Veritas Prime.
Instead of journals and papers concerning your major, Veritas often saw you seeking refuge in musings soaked in fantasy and your rationale behind such escapades puzzled the mind of his younger self greatly.
“And then the male lead gave a bouquet of bluebells to the female lead, declaring his feelings! Isn't that so romantic?”
Ratio scrutinized your form hunched over from giddiness derived from materials that appeared alien to his eyes, stacks of textbooks wept at the corner of the table in abandonment.
“Bluebells? I thought people gave roses for matters like this?” sunset orange eyes swept over the incredulity blooming on your visage.
You sighed as though he was the most exasperating person you had the misfortune of dealing with, “It’s because bluebells are the symbol of eternal and undying love. Roses are undoubtedly lovely but as you said, if anyone was to give roses to someone, everyone and their grandmas would have an inkling about what is happening between them! Giving someone a bouquet of bluebells on the other hand, is far more secretive and exciting.”
“I don't really understand but alright.”
Ratio almost drops his pen at the flick to his forehead, “So unromantic! You're never getting a girlfriend if you continue being like this, kid!”
His free hand whips up to shield his skin against further damage, he feels the muscles of his temple twitch in profound irritation. “I don't need—”
“Yes yes, you're too preoccupied with the pursuit of knowledge to bother with fickle things like romance blah blah blah.” Ratio's eye roll almost synchronizes with yours.
Veritas knows and he isn't ashamed to admit that he's not a romantic person. The path he walks on has no necessity for abstruse emotional attachment and sentimentalities.
On the contrary, what he abstained from seemed to be the centrepiece of your interest.
Your eyelashes flutter as you rest your elbows on the table, eyes searching for a trace of your wishes among the litany of bookshelves, “But if anyone was to confess to me, I'd want them to give me a bouquet of bluebells instead of trying to articulate their feelings.”
Ratio raised a brow as your sigh echoed throughout the grand library, “And how, pray tell, would they know of your preference?”
“That’s the thing, little Veri!” you snapped your fingers as though you'd solved the greatest dilemma plaguing mankind, “I wouldn't talk about these fantasies to just anyone. If someone was to give me a bouquet of bluebells, it'd mean that we're close enough to know these secrets and then there'd be a high chance that the feelings are mutual. No awkward moments, we'd know what we are without even speaking!”
The purple head observed as you rambled, the light from the sinking afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass shone on you. A scoff escaped him before he could stomp it down, his arms crossed almost derisively.
“And is that your sole ambition in life?”
“Of course not,” your reply was brisk and simple, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
You met Ratio's perplexed gaze with an unusual calm, “If by ambition, you mean what I want to do after all this studying, well — I want to be a teacher.”
Veritas couldn't hold back the surprise from soaking his words this time, “A teacher? Why?”
But you seemed to find great entertainment in his reaction, if your twinkling eyes was anything to go by and the genius isn't even taken aback this time; your sources of amusement would never be the guesswork of anyone.
Your shoulders shifted as you shrugged, “Why not? Teaching is one of the most noble professions out there, but it warrants great caution and wisdom. Hmm, come to think of it— what do you want to be, Veri?”
Ratio nearly flinched as you expertly shifted the attention to him, glossing over it with a fake cough. “I…” his throat constricted as you leaned in ever so slightly, “—don’t know.”
“Whaaaat?” you backed away just as quickly, dragging the syllables of that word to emphasize your disappointment. “Tsk tsk, so you're just studying blindly without any clear goal? That isn't going to get you far, regardless of how intelligent you are.”
He knows that, but what is he supposed to do if his mind blanks when he tries to envision himself in any conventional field? In fact, he considers it as one of the flaws of the educational system. How a student is always urged to find their place in the grand scheme of matters but never guided through them ; or, at least, given clear pointers.
It'd also be careless to label Veritas completely clueless about his situation. What he does cradle, or was compelled to bear was not borne of his personal wishes. But with time, his mind accepted it as his own, though a part of his heart always ached with emptiness.
You cleared your throat upon noticing that a great conflict had rendered the genius speechless, “Well... as for the reason as to why I want to be a teacher, it's because I want to help those students who struggle to find their way in this vast world. Regardless of where they rank in the merit position or what ‘status’ society has assigned them. Granted, this struggle may continue even after someone has graduated and while I may not be able to help every single person, I still want to try my best. After all, that should be the goal of our educational system — in my opinion, at least!”
You chuckled somewhat bashfully afterwards, remnants of it settled on the way your lips curled. There was something so succinct yet undoubtedly natural about that smile, like petrichor and he felt a pang of regret hitting his ribcage for not noticing it before.
Although it might not appeal to some, to many it brought solace even before the sun could sweep aside the canopies of darkened clouds.
Something that's appearance was preceded only by the tears of the skies, it stunned the mind that such beauty could be unearthed from a phenomenon so seemingly insignificant.
And that realization appalled the young scholar.
iii. Tenebrism
Ratio did not comprehend the value of your presence until he was deprived of it.
Due to certain circumstances, the genius had learned to be contingent with the fact that he'd have to navigate the majority of his life all by himself. Of course, ignoring simpletons and self-centered personnel came easy to him as well.
What the scholar wasn't conscious of, or was too prideful to acknowledge was the harrowing vacancy in some obscure corner of his heart that yearned for a deeper connection. It would take little effort for him to rationalize this longing with his age and return his attention to far more pressing concerns.
But it seemed that the more he tried to silence the wails of his feelings, the more cacophonous they became.
You'd spoiled Veritas a good amount, with your willing enthusiasm to tail after him whenever you had the reprieve.
So, when you abruptly stopped your usual pursuit in exchange of accompanying another person whose face he couldn't bother to remember, the young scholar was left to deal with a surge of emotions he had little control over.
Said emotions, were tame enough to be kept under check within the first few weeks as he learnt that the purpose of this sudden acquaintance had been for the completion of a group project.
Where the scholar's composure did start to falter was when you maintained your distance from him even after the fulfilment of said project.
And Ratio despised the sparks of resentment that'd flare up in his chest each time you'd pass him by while chatting so deliriously with that no-name stranger.
He was thrown in a limbo the first time he witnessed someone else in the position that he held and although he stubbornly convinced his mind that it was for the best ; each time the scene would replay in the corridors and crevices of the university, Veritas could see yellow hyacinths bloom in his peripheral.
He's certain now that he must've been losing his mind, or at least was on the verge of (and for such a childish cause at that) because he took shelter in a superstitious practice and ignored as many meals as he could in the futile hope that you'd come back and reprimand him again.
Ratio would have applauded you if he hadn't been so consumed by all those unsavory chemical reactions in his mind.
It didn't help his case that the first time he'd bothered to take in the environment, he was reminded of the fact that, you had others who'd accept you, but he only had you.
His frustration must've reached a new peak, because not even the most persistent of his irritable classmates were brave enough to approach him as he continued to brood hopelessly.
It wouldn't be long until he would gather the motivation to finally propel himself out of that dark space, but the method his younger self employed to do so, embarrasses the present him to no end.
“They did what?”
Veritas needn't open his eyes to picture your visage colored in shock, he opted instead to maintain his somber facade, arms folded, and brows furrowed to complete the act.
“But I never thought them to be that kind of person, quite the opposite, in fact.” followed your reluctant admission.
Ratio outstretched his palm as though enticing you to accept the news, “One can deduce so much about the ocean by gazing at its surface. The facts are before you, with substantial evidence. Whether you believe them or not depends entirely on you. I only thought I should inform you before it reaches the Principal, that is.”
He could envision your eyes oscillating between his firm countenance and the unseen prospects proposed by his words. Discreetly, he peered at your fidgeting and unconsciously held his breath.
He'd done the calculations before approaching you, the worry oozing from your gaze confirms that you've heard word of it from his ‘associates’ already and the fact that you didn't try to defend the person further tells him you've done some digging through the news portals of the university yourself.
Step by step, you've unknowingly assisted in concluding this problem.
The young scholar silences the quivers of his conscience before they can rage and foil all progress. As for this friend of yours, there were embers left behind from misdeeds of long ago. He merely reignited that flame so that those crimes would face proper punishment — although which was not his principal goal. To make sure you don't get caught in the inferno was, or at least, that's what he tells his conscience.
A half-resigned hum from you saves the scholar from spiralling, “I’ll believe you and will avoid them for the time being. Though I have my own theories, you have a point. There is no telling what is beneath a person's exterior.”
Veritas simply nods to that conclusion.
Your eyelashes flutter as you drift into a brief reverie, before fixating on his rigid person. “Ah, but what is going on with you, kiddo? You've been skipping meals again, haven't you?”
The young scholar blinks in stupefaction at the shrunken proximity between you two, the single finger beneath his chin with which you scrutinize his visage nearly burns his skin. He can hardly process what observation you're making through the dizzying fragrance of jasmines.
“I am in perfect health, as you can see—”
“For so long! It's only a matter of when that you'll faint while calculating nonsense.” you sharply interject and withdraw the searing contact. Strangely, Ratio makes no face this time.
“Come to think of it, it's been a while since we've had lunch together. Oh, I have so much to share with you! Let's not waste anymore time, let's go!”
There is good cause for why the wise warn against temptations. Bit by bit, piece by piece, oh so painfully obstinate — you fed him that poison, rendering his sharp mind a mess of inebriating chemical reactions.
You were none the wiser to the impact your fickle gestures made on him and soon, Ratio's biggest weakness, curiosity silenced the prodding of his conscience.
He gained little incentive to step far away from the leering shadows, as the brilliance of the sun made it so his fixation wouldn't stray towards the darkness.
iv. Tachisme
“Suffering is part and parcel of extensive intelligence and a feeling heart. A man who is really great, it seems to me, must suffer considerably here below.”
Your sigh weighs down on the silence of the university's library, a dull thud causing a crack on it as you set down the tome on the dark wooden table.
“I couldn't help but think of you while reading this novel.” bright orange eyes watch the way you cushion your cheek against your knuckles minutely.
“Suffering, misery, sadness, whatever you name it is inconsequential to any human being. But I feel like, those who are labelled as being ‘different’ than the majority experience a certain kind of those challenges. The ones that are weighty on the tongue when they attempt to express it, perhaps inscrutable to even themselves.” Ratio mulls over your musings, briefly closing his eyes.
“Everyone’s experiences are bound to be different.” comes his easy response.
The furrow in your brows suggests the conflict his words stirred instead of assurance, “You take everything so coolly, but I can't help but worry for you. You may be calm and certain about everything now but there's no guarantee you'll always be this way. On top of it all, you reject close relationships, thus narrowing your options to lean on someone should a sizable problem come.”
Ratio catches himself before his eyes can roll sideways, “Surely you didn't drag me out of a lecture just to nag me again?” his subconscious notes the reduced exasperation that prospect stirs within himself.
You often worry for a future that has yet to seize anyone. While the young scholar commends your far-sightedness, he really cannot understand the use of losing one's mind over events that haven't happened yet.
Thinking ahead is helpful, turning that habit into an obsessive frenzy is not.
He observes the way your frown expands, deepens and ultimately loosens up with a sigh. You refrain from broaching the topic further, another quality he appreciates.
Though you don't make an attempt to defend yourself, you refuse to voice out anything else as well, settling your eyes to a distant point in existence.
For once Veritas is ruffled by the silence, so he makes an attempt to change the subject — because counting your eyelashes isn't the most productive thing for a scholar to do.
“It’s not everyday I see you carrying something that doesn't have hearts and glitters on the cover page.” his eyes settle pointedly on the book before you.
You scoff, “One does not survive in Veritas Prime simply from reading light novels.” there's a trace of pride in your admission.
“Oh? So, what does ‘one’ do to maintain their spot in the top five?” Ratio quirks a brow, holding your gaze.
The witty response he anticipates gets replaced by another sigh, puzzling him for an instance, “I’m assuming this is about me never studying within campus. Well, I just like keeping my study space and my socializing space separate. Listening to lectures here and doing the heavy lifting in my room. It's what works for me, in any case.”
There's genuine interest in his next questions, “And what do you do when you get bored while studying? Or when you feel like you can't concentrate anymore?”
You twirl a stray lock of your hair, cheek still resting on your knuckles, “Take a bath to sober myself up, I guess. When your mind is full of garbage, your body will likely not be the cleanest either.”
You shrug, your nonchalant attitude renders his mind to a blank slate. For a while he does nothing but think about your words, though the response he gives matches none of the context.
“I feel like there is so much I don't know about you.”
It's your turn to be surprised, but unfortunately for Ratio, the sight is still too brisk. You break into a fit of laughter, wiggling your brows as though you know something.
“Silly little Veri, let me tell you something. People are like icebergs! We can only see their tips with our bare eyes but to know them in their full capacity, we have to dive down.”
“But the waters are cold.” the young scholar pushes.
Your giggles soften to a smile, “That’s exactly the point.” and you refuse to elaborate further, again.
To reach the heart of the iceberg, one must push through the freezing depths of the ocean. Whether Veritas Ratio has that willpower, is a question left for his future self.
v. Sotto in su
As the days lapsed, more and more memories anchored themselves in Ratio's mind. They brought with them a different seed of emotion, every exchange with his enigmatic senior nurtured and coaxed it to sprout tender leaves.
Before his syllabus could be replaced, the fact had been known to everyone regardless of their relation to the prodigy. If your recurring appearances in Ratio's life and his noticeable tolerance for your presence was anything to go by, it was apparent to anyone with a conscious mind that his opinion of you was at a level above everyone else's.
Exchanges between different years wasn't an uncommon phenomenon, but a friendship with the notoriously detached prodigy was an understandable bewilderment. Though, the students at Veritas Prime quickly learned to use it to their advantage rather than criticizing it — a unanimous realization that Ratio was just a bit more agreeable in your presence.
Not that Ratio was unaware of their schemes, the fact that they construed that he'd tolerate them solely because of your connection further cemented his belief that all these wannabe researchers were still light-years away from the truth they speak to seek.
Albeit, after noticing that he'd been more approachable for students who genuinely wanted to learn rather than to fulfill some pecuniary purpose — he begrudgingly admitted that, there was an influence taking place.
Veritas swiftly ignored the rumors. While not one to waste his time, being with you brought along perspectives that challenged his thinking style. To him, truth has always been beautiful because it will not change, even through the failures in understanding it.
But you're a human being, change is rooted in your constitution.
The cycle of erosion and accretion that makes you you hinders even a brilliant scholar like him in grasping the characteristics of your soul. This form of beauty he was not acquainted with before, admittedly.
Relying too much on either rigidity or malleability will pose problems. It is through the search of a balance can we discover the answers.
It may not be obvious at first glance, but you aspire to guide others through the murky depths of ignorance while pondering this apparent equilibrium — since neither extremes can be eliminated. As strange as that selflessness initially appeared to him, Ratio has developed a sense of respect for your ambitions.
Unfortunately, or fortunately for him, it seemed as though you knew exactly what was transpiring.
In fact, you were conscious of a lot of things ; it's just that you preferred to pretend that you didn't for reasons that he hasn't comprehended yet.
For the longest time he interpreted that thoughtful sparkle in your eyes as just another play of light. Whenever his reactions to your teasing would come off as more animated than last and the flush that he'd try so hard to not let extend to his cheeks do just that — you'd have that nearly imperceptible realization reflected in your eyes. It scratched at the parchedness Ratio hadn't even recognized to be there.
His fear was confirmed to be true one afternoon in a vacant lecture hall, though not through words.
“Is this for me?” sunset orange eyes shone against the shadows that fell on his back.
“Well, do you see anyone else here?” your huff and his eyeroll synchronize.
You patiently held the book covered in elaborate illustrations of flowers for his taking, though what captured the scholar's attention most was the single yellow bloom tied atop with a violet ribbon on the book. He recognized the book to be a copy of the floriography manual he often saw tucked between your collections.
“You’re probably wondering ‘what value will this book bring to you’. Well, as I've said before, studious scholars should never limit their perspectives.” you almost shove the gift into his hands in response to his stunned countenance.
“And,” an accidental brush of your fingers against his hand sends an unwanted shudder through his arteries, “Happy birthday, little Veri.”
You withdraw just as quickly, the hues of the setting sun softening the smile on your face.
Ratio forces himself to look elsewhere, "You're still going to use that ridiculous nickname, huh? What a way to welcome me into adulthood." he mutters, the words leaving a bitter aftertaste that he tries to mask with sarcasm.
He feels your chuckle probing at his heart, taunting the quickened pace in which it revolts against its cage. You shift your gaze to the golden petals resting atop the book, a somber sigh tumbling from your lips.
“— Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon ;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not yet attained his noon.”
Many see fit to celebrate their first step into adulthood with enthusiastic celebrations, Ratio's eighteenth birthday brought with it a clinging bittersweetness — not that he allowed himself to dwell on it for long, his future plans taking precedence over sentiments.
The lone daffodil had been tucked between a random section of the book you gifted, hidden away from his sight. The border between cowardice and courage was thin, nearly translucent in the manner the result dictated what it would turn out to be.
The journey of uncovering the mysteries of the universe is a similar pursuit. Emerge victorious and you'll be brave, fail and you'll be heralded foolish. Ratio was far from a coward or a foolish man, sometimes not going head-fast into uncertain territories is the mark of intelligence.
He allowed the daffodil to wilt and turned not a page, for he knew in some deep crevice of his subconscious that it'd blight the clarity of his mind with another flood of emotions he did not have the capacity to process.
Luckily, his agony met a premature end as you departed from Veritas Prime by the end of the year with a certificate in hand.
Who knows how many sleepless nights and crushed dreams paved the path for the ink lines on that single piece of parchment. Ratio had been there as the first to congratulate you, it was the least he could do.
He did not proceed farther than that, as you'd made it clear that there would forever be a line he would be unable to trespass.
Ratio was fully aware of the limitations the silly crush that accumulated over the time in your acquaintance brought and he expressed no interest in pushing those boundaries either.
He found solace in the fact that he'd met you at all. He wouldn't say you illuminated his life, for even you always believed it was the individual themselves who possessed that power.
You nudged him towards the path to find his light and that lesson, he wanted to honor all his life.
The memories of your time would stay treasured in his mind and the curve of your smile would be preserved in marble. Without the echo that his ears yearned to capture, he saw fit to isolate his senses from unnecessary stimulation.
Though you'd never grace the corridors of Veritas Prime again, the footprints of your presence etched deep in the genius's memories would never fade.
vi. Trompe l'oeil
His next encounter with you was a tad unexpected, just at the horizon of Ratio putting the full stop to his years at the university.
Veritas’s fingers slackened around the handle of his umbrella, a page or two of the manuscript of his thesis slipping past his grip and drifting along the roaring wind — but his eyes couldn't chase after them. Much too fixated on the way your shoulder bumped with theirs, not at all by accident.
The rain soon cloaked your figures from his spying gaze, the droplets soaking the ends of his clothes failed still to snatch his attention away. In spite of the thunderous cries of the sky, the echo of your laugh was all he could hear.
—
Time never ceased its relentless march; life followed its direction and events moulded more memories.
For the sake of productivity, he had no choice but to push back his curiosity and stay away from your life. His studies and workload helped generously in keeping his mind from wandering to frightful territories at inconvenient instances, though a certain spark nestled deep somewhere in his subconscious.
Before long, his name resounded far beyond the gates of Veritas Prime.
Veritas Ratio, now Dr. Ratio, felt his nerves flare again as he looked at the latest discussions on the university’s online forum, the words “Dr. Ratio Will Surely Snag A Place At The Genius Society, Won’t He?” in bold only tickled his annoyance further.
Ordinarily, he would stay as far away as possible from discussions concerning himself — which was easier said than done.
Aggrandizing anything always leads to disappointment. Ratio's surroundings loved to goad his path, but he knew, such chatter would morph to whispers the moment their expectations were proven false.
Dr. Ratio’s brooding came to a halt at the collision, his reflexes acted and he clasped onto the stranger’s arm before they could fall. He heard leaves crunching under his boots, strangers threw cursory glances at the near-accident.
His lips parted in what a spectator could assume to be the beginning of an apology, but paused upon noticing the words resignation letter on the paper in the stranger's grasp.
Orange eyes flickered, trailing upward, within the fabric of scarlet you burrowed deep in search of comfort from the scare.
You mimicked his earlier attempt, craning your neck for a second to meet his gaze and halting in recognition.
“Veritas… Ratio?”
The addressed scholar blinks, blurting out before he could think, “That’s not what you used to call me.”
There's a scintilla of surprise in your eyes at his unintentional jest, he anticipates a laugh next, but only an awkward quirk of your lips greets him.
Your eyes dart around your environment, before returning to his grasp. Feeling the weight of your stare, he releases his hold with a fake cough.
“I… apologize.” his hand found refuge on the nape of his neck.
“It’s okay, accidents... happen, you know.” you wave him off with your free hand.
A breeze passes through the gap between you two.
It might've just been Ratio’s misjudgement, but he felt as if you were about to run away for a millisecond. Your fingers tightened around the paper in your hold, you gathered yourself with a deep inhale.
“Congratulations on obtaining your fourth doctorate degree! I often discuss your papers in my classes, you are an inspiration to so many people.”
A flicker of sunlight filtered through the leaves above fell and there appeared that smile he knew. Years had gone by, yet the mystery in it remained still out of his reach.
“Thank you,” he tilted his head downward, “I’m glad to hear that you pursued your dream.”
Ratio sneaked a glance, your nod faded into silence. His gaze lingered on your face, the concentrated flush on your right cheek made his brows furrow.
He was no fool to the tension in the air and your unusual fidgety demeanor. He briefly contemplated if he should just depart.
However, he couldn't deny the fact that questions had accumulated throughout the interval of your absence from his life. The differences between the you before him and the you from his memories begged him to probe, to study and learn.
He felt himself drawn to the paper in your hand again, a glint on your ring finger caught his eye. Among the myriad of inquiries battling to escape his lips, the one that’d warred the longest emerged victorious.
“Did they…” he began, uncertain.
“Give you a bouquet of bluebells?”
Your flighty gaze froze to confusion for a moment as you tried to decode his words, Ratio mirrored your gaze as you failed to answer. You quickly blinked away any hints of shock, a forceful bite stopped the trembling of your lips.
(He felt a twist somewhere in his heart.)
“Can we… talk somewhere else?” you suggested. Despite it being the middle of autumn, there's a storm brewing in your eyes.
—
Veritas could see splinters on the cup in his grip, the dark beverage within threatening to spill.
A passing waitress threw the table a concerned glance, but could not find the courage to intervene. The sight of your antsy wringing of hands in his peripheral alerted him to breathe. He loosened his grip on the poor cup of coffee just in time, a burdened exhale following suit.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, “So, what do you intend to do now?”
You fiddled with the band on your ring finger ; within the vacancy of the cafe, to Ratio, it felt as if even such an insignificant gesture gained voice.
The insistence of your silence prompted him to continue, “The culmination of your hard-work, one that stole almost all of your life ; all of those sleepless nights, unsaid sacrifices for the sole wish of helping others — all of it, you're going to let go, just like that? Just because an idiot claims they know better?”
Dr. Ratio could not understand, no matter which angle he looked at it from. The answer to your dilemma was crystal clear to the scholar, he’d be willing to bet it’d be clear to anyone with a functioning brain — and yet, you hesitate.
You continue to shuffle and avert your gaze, sometimes parting your lips to speak but withdrawing the next second.
A person that's found the tunnel’s end should run towards it, but you remain at the precipice of darkness.
“I…” The purple head straightens up at the sound of your voice, it is weak, hopeless ; a complete stranger to who you once were.
You abruptly gather your things, “I’m sorry, please forget I ever said anything —” an innocent glass is knocked off in your haste.
Cold, your hand is chillingly cold as Ratio grabs it, preventing you from running away. The unnatural temperature of it temporarily unsettles the man, but the situation at hand prompts him to push the observation back.
You try to force your wrist out of his grasp, but he presses on, “Can’t you see, that they are ruining you? This is not who you used to be! Your so-called 'fiance' is destroying you, they’ll not stop until you're nothing but a shell of yourself and they can reshape you to their liking!”
“I really have to go —” a vein pops on Ratio’s forehead, the wanton glass hits the floor.
“And why go? To receive another slap from them?” he feels your palm dampen from sweat, pieces of shattered crystal splaying across the tiles.
You look at him in disbelief and he blinks, the sharpness of his words finally cutting him.
The incipiency of an apology gathers at the tip of his tongue, but you halt it from escaping.
“Whatever happens between us, is none of your business, Veritas Ratio.”
If your hand was simply cold, your glare is freezing. It stuns the scholar enough to make his clasp loosen, you quickly snatch your hand away.
You’re two steps in when Veritas rushes to add, unwilling to back down, “But it was still you who reached out to me.”
The scholar hears the pause in your heels, you don't turn to address him and he doesn't move to obstruct your path either.
The bell signals your departure as the waitress from before rushes to clean the broken glass, leaving Ratio alone with his thoughts.
—
Veritas Ratio has had scarce attachments to worry about in his life.
For better or for worse, it appeared as though the direction of his life was steered towards one particular destination, everything else proved to be transient.
While his surroundings eroded and flourished within the touch of mortal delights, he remained but a spectator, destined to observe but never indulge.
Love. A simple word, yet any singular meaning behind which could still not be agreed upon.
He saw it in the way parents cradled their children, in the eyes of a couple that brushed past him in the streets. Flighty like the union between another pair of his former classmates, strengthened like the wrinkly hold of that couple that sold flowers down the street ; its form, just like its definition, is infinite.
The scholar thinks he's felt it somewhere in his past, or at least the vestiges of it — within the glow of a cryptic smile and a mind that did not yield.
Troublesome as it’d been, it did not conquer him. Ultimately, he wielded enough willpower to move on.
Some say, brilliant minds that toil too long in the territories of the unknown, become dense to the simpler aspects of life. Ratio did not see the inconvenience in this notion for a long time, not when it aided him more than burden him.
That is, until the encounter at the cafe.
If nothing else, it was clear to the prodigy that you had changed, for the worst at that.
The 'you' he’d known would know how to pick yourself up, or more accurately, that ‘you’ wouldn't have allowed things to escalate this far at all.
You would've left this rotten excuse of a relationship the first time they raised their voice, you would never concede to that fatal act of disrespect, under no circumstance would you let such an excuse of a human have such control — he… he hoped.
Ratio leaned back in his chair, a frown creeping in to his face.
For all these outrageous claims that he's been making of the you he was familiar with, how much did he actually know?
Is a year’s observation enough to grant him that badge of familiarity?
It is as you said, who is he to judge you at all?
Within the gloom of his study, his eyes unconsciously met with those etched in marble, the curve of a sun-kissed smile. He hand moved on its own, turning the table-lamp towards the sculpture and indeed, the light has always suited you more than him.
His recollections backtrack to the hazy gaze he saw that day, the encumbrance in them hoisting him up to chase after the itch for answers.
An uncounted number of hours passed, only after perusing a decent pile of tomes did it finally click in his head.
Ratio had no excuses or motivation to defend himself, he most certainly handled the situation poorly.
When the average attempts of leaving such relationships is between seven and twelve, it was insensitive of him to confront you like that.
Cognitions clouded in rage, he ignored the questions he should've asked, the sense of security he should've provided — the one you sought from him — and cornered you abruptly.
Foolish foolish foolish — he felt his fingers tug at his hair, breaths stuck in his lungs. Rationale does not always succeed in helping others see reason, how could he be so careless with you, of all people?
He didn't even know what stage of this hell you were at, how many times you’ve attempted to leave and what leverage they have over you.
Well, it would be most accurate to say he didn't know anything at all and yet, he arrogantly told you to 'just leave'.
The purple-head forced himself to breathe, the self-loathing could be shelved for a later day, what's more important now is finding you again.
He stood up from the heap of tomes, only to pause, does he deserve to seek you out again?
He betrayed your trust and you shut him off for good, should he even bother now?
A distant tug held him back.
Much like before, there is that line between you two that he cannot cross, must not cross.
He’s no longer a teenager in documents, but he doubts you see him as anything more than that ‘little Veri’.
—
The echoes of passing vehicles ricocheted around the streets, but Dr. Ratio’s attention stayed transfixed on the ivory petals in front of him.
A week or so had passed, the ruminations of those doubts kept him away from the confrontation and stole his nights.
It would be easy to cure this ailment, finding you would be but a matter of a few swipes. But that uncertainty, the ghost of a past insecurity, clung to his resolve. As such, peace abandoned him for a while.
A zephyr whispered to him, “Asphodels,”
He hummed without much thought, sunset orange eyes tracing the dulcet lines in those blooms.
“ ‘My regrets will follow you to the grave’, it's not everyday you see someone looking at these flowers with such care.”
If anyone looked straight into the scholar’s eyes at that moment, they'd for sure be able to witness the cogs turning in his brain in them.
Ratio finds you startled once he whips to his left, your presence finally registering in his head.
A prayer, a yearning, your name escapes his lips. But any further speech is obstructed from taking shape.
You’re the first to recover, “I apologize for running away like that the other day. It… was cowardly of me to tell you to mind your own business when I was the one who confided in you first.” your head lowers in appeal.
He’s sure of it now, you must be on the quest of giving him a heart-attack, what with these continuous surprises you’re throwing at him.
Well, if not a fatality, they're at least doing a wondrous job in preventing him from processing the fact in its entirety — you're here, you’re here, you're here.
You found him, again. Just like all those years ago in the lecture hall, all those times he was skipping lunch, on his eightieth birthday and that other day ; it was always you finding him.
(Has he ever broken through his pride and cowardice and tried to find you instead?)
The scholar hastens to join you, “No, it was my incompetence in failing to understand your situation that pushed you to leave. I completely failed to provide you with safety when you trusted me. For that, I beg your forgiveness.”
He couldn't see it, but he could picture your disbelief at his behavior. Your fist mirrored his, “No, it was clearly my stupidity—”
“Nonsense!” his exclamation earned him a flinch from you. He subconsciously straightened up to drive his point across, “It was me who —”
In the hurry and flurry of emotions, your head bumped with his, ending his tirade prematurely.
Your eyes settle on him, a car runs past your perplexed figures and then, the streets get cloaked in quietude ; before being filled with your giggle.
Against his control, his lips twitch and laughter bubbles in his chest. He allows them to gain voice and join yours.
You fan your face with your hand as the chuckles skid to an end, Ratio feels his cheeks warmed when he inhales. But none of you bother addressing the previous argument, its result apparent.
You take a deep breath and exhale. The scholar sees sun-glitter in your pupils, “I left them, by the way.”
That sobers him.
“Your…”
“Fiancé, yes. Or well, ex-fiancé now.” as if on cue, Ratio catches your now vacant ring finger.
“They tried to beg me to stay. But to be honest, it was not the first time they appealed to my sympathy.” you find interest in the pavement, searching for the remnants of your memories in their cracks.
���... But I really put my foot down this time. And oh, I didn't quit my job either, in case you were wondering.” you heave, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.
“And where are you residing now — if you don't mind me asking?”
“I’m temporarily staying at a friend's house. Don't worry, I’m at a safe place.” you reassure, detecting the underlying concern in his inquiry.
Ratio’s shoulders sag as he exhales, the receding adrenaline dulling his worries. Turns out you didn't really need his help, not that he's astonished. It was in your nature to extend help towards others but thinking twice before asking for help.
(Although he's in no position to criticize, he so wished that you’d find it in yourself to rely on him a bit more.)
“If you ever need anything, just give me a call or a text. You still have my number, correct?” he glances down to gauge your expression.
When you nod, he murmurs a faint ‘good’ and silence takes over. He contemplates if he should add anything else, but the serenity in the atmosphere prompts him to push back those concerns.
“Well, goodbye for today?” you suggest, snapping him back to reality.
He raises his hand to do just that, but a different thought alarms him.
“Let me walk you home.” he pushes back the cringe at the excess firmness to his tone, rushing to add, “Please?”
For a blink or two, you looked at him as though you’ve just sighted an alien. He assumes it's the ‘out-of-character’ tendencies he’s been portraying that has you double-check. It seems that he was not the only one comparing the present and the past.
Luck appeared by his side — or perhaps it was just your pity — and you conceded without any complaint, letting him join your steps. The scholar barely hid his glee through his gait.
The planet that housed Veritas Prime would get decorated in the lovely shades of ripened maple leaves around this time. Civilians gathered in groups beneath these scenes, some enjoying a leisurely picnic, others focused on getting their desired pictures.
Ratio noticed your wanton glance at a pair on a picnic mat, his lips tugging down at the tell-tale signs of where your thoughts ran towards.
But before he could do anything, you turned away and picked up your pace ; the pair’s laughter but background noise.
With some haste, he caught up to you. Racking his brain to distract your mind, he found himself empty-handed.
Four doctorates and yet, his mind goes blank when he needs it the most. He couldn't be any more disappointed in himself.
Just as he’s about to start a mental berating though, you side-step a rock and Ratio’s hand bumps with yours, their frigidity alerting him.
He stops in his tracks, and you do too, looking up quizzically at him.
He extends his palm, “Give me your hand,”
Your confusion only increases, “What? Why?”
“It’s too cold. Are you certain you aren't sick?” he thinks back to the encounter he had with you at the cafe, the chill he felt when he grasped your hand. He initially thought it a coincidence, but now, he was really concerned.
“Ahh, this, you see,” you flex your fingers, a feeble attempt at warming them up. “My hands kind of respond to the temperature? Don't ask because I don't know exactly why either, during winter, they're usually cold like this. But in summer, they're very warm.”
Ratio quirks a brow, “Just the fact that it tends to happen doesn't make it any less uncomfortable, does it?”
“No…” you trail off, “But! That's what my fiance— I mean, ex-fiance would always tell me, to just get used to it.”
Your eyes flicker back to Ratio’s, the disbelief in them telling you enough of what you need to know.
The scholar ran a hand through his hair, he shuddered to ponder what other garbage they had fed your brain.
His sigh is carried by a passing breeze, “It’s okay. They aren't here to dictate your life anymore.” he once again offers you his hand, another hope-filled prayer.
You look at his extended palm and back to his patient gaze, your fingers fisting in themselves for a moment before loosening.
He sees the ebb and flow of doubt and hope in their movements, inching closer and closer to his.
He cradles your hand when it reaches him, your fingers slipping easily through the gaps of his. The difference in temperature alerts his reflexes for a second before he calms them down.
He stuffs your intertwined hands in his coat pocket — your gasp fades behind you as he resumes his gait.
Ratio does not dare glance in your direction, but he knows you're watching, scrutinizing him. It reminds him of the look you had at the end of your university days, the memory of the incident that followed makes his throat parched.
Your grip is unusually weak, combined with the knowledge of your situation, the scholar can't stop himself from adding.
“Have you been eating well? Tell me if you haven't, I'll take you to have a proper meal. But don't lie about these matters, you can't achieve your dreams if you don't take care of yourself first.”
You freeze at his words and Ratio makes the mistake of returning your stare.
Seeing no change in his serious expression though, you shake your head with a chuckle, assuring him of your health.
The clicking of both of your shoes against the pavement is the only thing keeping his heart-beat at bay, his attention from focusing too much on the feel of your hand in his and the myriad of chemical reactions flooding his reward system.
When the coldness in your hand has been completely replaced with the warmth from his, you gesture to him that you’ve reached your destination.
He feels an unexpected reluctance in letting you go, something in his gut pushing him to hold on — but he ignores it.
You pause before opening the gates, glancing at him from over your shoulder.
He looks up in time to see your smile, it's not like all those times you’ve smiled before — no, no. This time, lilac petals cling to its corners.
Ratio covered his mouth with his hand, hiding the stupid curve of his lips from anyone's eyes. The lingering warmth from your hand finally allowed his heart to beat with fervor.
He wanted nothing more than to give you a bouquet of bluebells at that moment.
vii. Sfumato
The day Dr. Ratio returned to your side with the pledged bluebells, was beautiful.
The canopy of winter had begun to be swept aside as nascent leaves heralded spring, twitters of birds ornamented the breeze.
When fresh fountain ink meets parchment, it spreads with a thin halo of blue — the sky of that moment brought back this image in his mind. The sun found amusement in steering behind ivory clouds ; a cheeky, one sided game of hide and seek played with light and dark.
The sun made a mistake, a sidestep allowed rays to escape and fall on the lace ribbon of the bouquet.
Sun-glitter followed the lead of Ratio’s arm, over the arch of his wrist, finding their way from beneath the crevices of his fingers — shining, glimmering, as lapis petals caressed the tombstone.
How strange, didn't it usually rain and roar for scenes like these in those light novels of yours?
Veritas could not feel his breaths, it's as if the mechanisms of his respiratory system halted for that matter, he couldn't even feel his eyes flutter.
Idiocy.
He contemplated turning away altogether, what was he even thinking, bringing bluebells to the cemetery like a young lover?
A dead leaf crunched from his retreating step, the note stunning him in place.
Perhaps he should've brought the chopped off, bleeding excuse of a skull of that man — if only, if only if only any being, any listening existence in this wretched world would reassure him that it’d bring you back.
The scholar felt his fingers lax from their cocoon, but he knew, that would be impracticable. If a life for a life resurrected the other, his fingers wouldn't tremble in usurping that leverage and bringing justice to your final moments.
But he knew, oh how the erudite scholar despised knowledge for the first time in his life — that it’d soothe him, but leave a hollow far worse in his heart.
A sigh forced its way past his lips, onerous was its euphony. Windswept locks of violet poked at the way crystalline orange held onto the engraving on the silver stone ; the name, once his boon, now his bane.
Splinters of marble flew, papers, pens, innocent objects were tossed aside like fickle trash. Rouge flecked once pristine alabaster. Midst the carnage, a book fell betwixt Veritas’s path.
A withered daffodil lamented rationality’s fall.
Newspapers and channels boldly flashed the incident for a week — individual apprehended for the charge of murdering their ex-fiancé — before being swallowed by other, more fascinating pieces of events.
Ratio found himself scoffing at their tone, picking apart their every word and spacing, frowning at how quick people's interest moved on.
Indeed, the world waits for none. The ones lingering are always tormented.
With the last person in close association with you behind the bars of the psych ward and your acquaintances grieving, the scholar took it upon himself to deliver your files and belongings to your family.
But that decision turned out to be a lesson, the universe once again pointing out without mercy the mediocrity of his knowledge.
“Does that mean we’ll have to turn to the streets now?” whispered a little too loudly, a little too carelessly, your step-mother to your father.
Ignorance.
Perhaps Ratio’s disbelief had been too loud on his face, for your father shushed her quickly and attempted to smooth over the slip-up with a barely-strung lament.
But the scholar had learned what was to be surmised from this family, all of their next speeches effortlessly ignored by him.
So the reason you ultimately didn't quit your job was for them, Veritas's eyes dimmed. Feelings were never his forte, this messy heap of them he had no clue what to do with.
And the siblings you used to so dearly miss back in your university days? The second-oldest after you put back her headphones after he finished delivering the news and the youngest couldn't even recall your name.
Ratio seldom used the phrase, but it was truly a miracle he left that fetid establishment without causing damage.
He decided against disclosing your remaining belongings to them and instead, gave them away for charity as written in a journal he accidentally stumbled upon while sorting through them.
Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew this would happen.
But you refused to confide in anyone, tolerating the farce of a content life.
Ratio could not understand, did not even know where to begin in decoding what was going through your head when you lied to him and what had coerced him into believing it.
Of course you didn't leave them, that would've been too perfect and too merciful an end and clearly, the universe would not allow it. Of course he needed to be shown how much of an idiot he still is, the extent of his wishful thinking.
Ratio concurs he deserves it.
But did you deserve to meet such an end? No, your life shouldn't have been shaped this way to begin with! And yet, it had been.
For long did he stare off into vacant space, casting aside the need for slumber, attempting to answer what was to be done now. The silence beckoned him, that it was nothing.
Perhaps, you were at peace now at last.
Perhaps the craving for this serenity was what had prompted you from not fighting off that axe.
Perhaps, you had closed your eyes without any regrets.
When the haze in his head cleared a bit, he visited your grave again. Dust had gathered on the lifeless petals of the bluebells he’d left, the scholar tenderly rid them from the surface.
He dug a section beside your resting place and planted fresh asphodels. An elderly woman saw the scene in passing but did not comment, pity clung at the edges of her eyes.
Foolishness.
In fear of the tides of time burying the traces of your foot-steps, Ratio chased after them. The places you spoke so fondly of, the flowers and stories you cherished and the students you stood proud beside.
They spoke of your passion, your vision and your resilience to him.
They say, even a lifetime of ‘knowing’ someone is not sufficient in knowing them.
Although he’d known you for a miniscule timeframe, he squandered no effort in trying to understand you. Only at this juncture, did your nature become clear to him. You were an expert in keeping your lips shut, a seasoned performer of half-truths and no stranger to the art of survival.
It was no coy act, you trusted no one with your actual thoughts and motivations — that was the naked truth.
So then, it begs the question, what exactly did you try so hard to eradicate?
Supposing that this universe suffers from a common ailment, and it is so persistent, so adhesive, so elusive that it plagues the dullest to the most brilliant mind — that despite all attempts at curing it, only its surface has been scratched. And this truth had been so frustrating, even you could not stand back.
Ratio tapped his fingers against his desk, what other malady does an educator aspire to cure other than ignorance?
Foolishness? Idiocy? Stupidity? All synonymous, yet capable of clasping and corrupting irrespective of a person’s standing in the path of life.
To rid them, scholars, researchers and teachers attempt to disseminate knowledge with the vow of indiscrimination.
But Dr. Ratio knew, the oasis of knowledge is but a mirage in the desert of ignorance. For the populace to reach that base awareness, to recognize that mirage — that, is what is needed.
The scholar saw the early light of dawn from betwixt the crevices of his window, the hinges groaned as he pushed them open and for the first time — the sun embraced him and the shadows fell behind his form.
But the meteor that briefly illuminated his sky, is gone — as tends to be their destiny. He can do nothing but carry the memories of its glow.
—
Light glinted over the edge of the cone, approaching footsteps reminded the doctor to tuck it away from prying eyes.
Ratio tsk-ed upon feeling the absence of his headpiece, cracks on the alabaster had demanded a remake.
The scholar’s eyes met with the ones cradling the remnants of a bygone sunset, melting into hues of ocean blue.
“Doc! Didn't expect to see you here.” drawled an unfortunately familiar man. Ratio offered a blink in greeting.
“Yes, how astonishing it is to see a member of the Intelligentsia Guild in its corridors.” the doctor muttered plainly, the Stoneheart in the spotlight merely maintained his smile.
Ratio noticed his other hand to be occupied, “And what about you? Busy squandering your time as usual, gambler?”
Contrary to his expectations, the quirk of Aventurine’s lips widened as though he’d struck gold, he smoothed over the lapels of his suit. The erudite scholar subconsciously braced himself for whatever trick was to be brought next.
“Now now, it's not squandering if you're spending it with a dear person.” he winked.
Veritas caught a silhouette peeking from behind the blonde, “Meaning?”
“Ah, how uncourteous of me.” though there's a note of glee in his voice. “Allow me to introduce you to…”
Dr. Ratio observed as a figure emerged from Aventurine’s shadow, the passing question of how he hadn't noticed them sooner was pushed aside as they joined the Stoneheart in the spotlight.
“My dearest, precious jewel or— how did you prefer it again? Hmm I can't seem to remember~” an elbow to his side and huff broke through his theatrics ; the vacant halls gained life through laughter, petrichor bloomed in their notes.
“Just kidding, my bluebell.”
A meteor crossed the orbit of Ratio’s life again.
© harmonysanreads | do not cross-post, translate, plagiarise, copy on a different platform or use my works to train ai.
Thank you so much for reading!
TAGLIST : @abyssmal-skies @danijaci @birdloverr @teabutmakeitazure @cherriiirose @bleh09 @scurfi @justcallmemidnight @mochinon-yah @feral-ish @lavandulawrites @persicipen @stickyspeckledlight
#dr ratio#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio x you#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#yandere dr ratio#yandere dr ratio x reader#yandere hsr#yandere hsr x reader#yandere honkai star rail#yandere honkai star rail x reader#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio angst#right on the one year anniversary of ratio's first in-game appearance bro—
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Ok so bear with me (if you care lol)
This includes some offensive shit that I really toned down for this post bc it was that bad so.. tw abuse tw racism tw xenophobia idek what else to add it’s just bad
This is how it started (talking while eating dinner)
Me: I like having a phone bc you can learn so many things
Dad: YEAH LIKE THINGS THAT ARENT TRUE
YOU BASE YOUR WHOLE LIFE OFF OF WHAT YOU READ ON THAT PHONE
me (very calmly): you do the same thing. You live your life and base your ideals on your little radio talk show you listen to all day and Fox News (he rly is a brainwashed ass…) He then got silent for about three minutes I guess out of rage????? and then was like YOU BETTER NOT EVER QUESTION ME OR MY KNOWLEDGE ON HOW THR WORLD WORKS EVER AGAIN IVE BEEN HERE WAY LONGER THAN YOU I KNOW MORE THAN YOU (blah blah blah it went on and on hahahaha)
He screamed YOU ALWAYS FUCKING SIDE WITH THE BAD GUY!!!!!!!
I said someone having a different opinion than you do should not bother you this much it’s weird
And he said “You always have the same opinion though!” And I was like yea so do you, and I don’t scream at you for being a racist abusive disgusting piece of shit (didn’t say the stuff past the word you bc I would have been probably punched in the face or had a glass plate thrown at my head as hard as possible from two feet away or worse but boy was I thinking it)
anyways lmao i said “I literally have to sit there silently and say nothing every time you try to start a conflict and a huge fight and freak out at me because if I say ANYTHING you lose it” (I stg even just on regular days in regular conversations this man goes out of his way to try to create conflict and initiate a fight every damn time)
And he just continued with the absolutely disgusting bullshit about how I’m always wrong and always siding with “the bad guys” (homeless people, minorities, lgbt people, disabled people, people who need government assistance, mentally ill people, addicts, people who wore masks even when the pandemic was at its worst, people who got vivid shots, immigrants, Palestinians, anything even slightly liberal in general etc etc etc etc)
I was basically overall just like I don’t understand why you take it as a personal attack when someone has their own opinion. I said a lot of immigrants come here to make better lives for their families back home and then I said something about how fentanyl and meth are already here and it’s not just coming from Mexico and he got all angry and was like DONT FUCKING DEFEND THOSE PEOPLE. IMMIGRANTS HAVE RUINED OUR COUNTRY!
I literally was like jfc dude calm down and walked away
Then while I walked away he threatened to kick me out so I could “be homeless or find a place where they believe the same bullshit as me”
I think I’m just gonna go nonverbal for a while. Feels like the best route to take rn. If I don’t speak he can’t twist my words and try to say he’s being attacked 🫠
can I rant about my dumbass bigot father real quick
#sorry idk how much this makes sense or how well it’s put together was just manically typing#if I respond he gets angry and I’m like bitch that’s how a conversation generally works#this is NOT the first time I’ve been threatened for calling out his racism#racism tw#ugh#ask me if u need me to tag this w anything#it’s enraging and it’s every single day and I’m just tired#I hate conflict I don’t wanna fight but like I said every word for him comes with the intention to start shit#the man is 40 years older than me and still cannot have a civilized conversation#I’m just bothered I hate this energy I hate his negativity I hate the environment it creates#to where I will sit and wait until he leaves a room to go there solely because I don’t want to deal with his shit#tw abuse#tw racism#tw xenophobia
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Astro observations ptIV "am i stupid?" edition🧠
DO NOT PLAGIARISE MY WORK🚫
All these observation are my personal observations
Tw: brief mention of physical abuse
BY- tarorenchantress🧚🏻♀️
I made this post cause i toooooo, have been mocked for my intelligence alot. Alot of times.
Hello guyssss!!!! im back with another edition. In this one were gonna discuss the placements that may indicate that you underestimate you intelligence, or others do or others have called you stupid or mocked your intelligence or simply underestimated.
🧠 saturn in 3rd house, 9th house, aspecting mercury, in the houses of gemini, sag, in the degrees 3°,15°,27°.
[Saturn restricts and here's the thing, 3rd house governs your early childhood and learning imo. It also governs your schools and neighbours whilst on the other hand, 9th house governs travelling and higher education alongside your higher mind and religeon and faith and mercury needless to say determines your intellect and mind. Saturn rewards but creates a harsh environment and also and it also rules discipline. This placement indicates that you may have felt that you always had to work harder than your peers to achieve the same as them. It may akso indicate that no matter what you may have always felt inadequate and average at best. It may also indicate that authority figures may have been harsher with you or may have doubted your intelligence and neglected you or they may have been more attentive towards you than other students as they may not have alot of confidence in you. You may also see your peers travel before you but you may not even know the basics of travelling or may feel very stupid when it comes to how to travel alone and may have started travelling later than your peers. You may learnt hings later than your peers or they may have learnt alot of things before you . Like bitchhh i have saturn in 9th house right and heres the thing, i felt so stupid whenever i would travel with my friends cause they all could do it like booking the cab, going on solo trips with friends but i couldnt do that and hate travelling alone too. Like i would rather die than actually travel alone even though it intrigues me. 9th house also governs foreign travel snd i always wanted to go to abroad to study pyschology but not only did i never go abroad i alsooooo did not get to choose psychology and instead my parents made me choose law. Also indicates that you may have started speakinglater than your peers as saturn also delayss ]
🧠 asteroid nessus in 3rd house, 9th house, aspecting mercury, aspecting 3rd house, 9th house, in the degree of 3°,15°,27°
[I have nessus in 3rd house and growing up, i always felt neglected by my peers, by my teachers, my parents would mock me, call me names because i struggled to understand maths, i even got beat with a belt by my dad because i couldnt understand conversion in metric system and inches and geometry as well. Basically all of maths. I would avoid studying like it was a plague. I was also constantly compared with other students by my parents and would feel extremely insecure of other people scoring well. I also had horrible self esteem and wouldnt answer as i feared being mocked and the one time i did answer,the teacher looked at me and told me that it waas wrong snd then called me near the white board and made me solve it and i struggled too and my hands were shaking and everyone laughed at me😀like????? Bitch?????😀 oneof my classmates even called me weird so ig??? Fuck you too bitch, you were weird too😀
Nessus is where you are abused and picked on and how you do it to others
It may also indicate being compared to your sibling or the children you study with or the neighbourhood children.
It got better in highschool but bitch please. Never again.
Similar effects can be seen with 9th house as it also governs college and travelling, religeon and law. Like you may feel like you are dumb when it comes to travelling. Like you may not even know how to book tickets or do basic shit for travelling. It may also indicate that you may have a fear of travelling eventhough you see your peers do it. Alsoo, relegious study or things that require faith may make you feel stupid. ]
🧠chiron in 3rd house, 9th house, in the degrees of 3°,15°,27°, aspecting mercury, aspecting3rd house, 9th house in gemini, sag.
[I have mercury conjunct chiron and i was constantly attacked for my intelligence. Like people would just call me dumb esp my tuition teachers]
🧠 mercury or sun in pisces, cancer, aquarius, capricorn, mercury making negative aspects with saturn, pluto, nessus, 4th house, 12th house, aspe ting 12th house too.
[If you have any of these placements, you may have noticed that people tried to gaslight you or question your memory or you learnt things slowly or people did not understand your mind or you may have felt misunderstood by them and mocked. May indicate someone who was soft spoken, or considered weird esp pisces and aqua, someone who had issues taking a stand for themselves. Aqua mercs could have exerienced being mocked by their friends. These placements may also daydream alot as a form of escapism.
Like, i remember this guy i was studying with, he once said that his tuition teacher considered him stupid cause he "looked" like he did not understand anything and he would also ask the this guy if actually understood anything 💀 and he was the topper of grade for 6 consecutive years btww. Je was a pisces sun Oh most of the people i know who were extremely creative have these placements]
🧠 neptune aspecting mercury, neptune in 3rd house, 9th house, in the gemini degrees 4°,15°,27° , neptune aspecting sun, ascendant, mc, aspecting the 3rd house, 9th house, even 10th house
[Neptune tends to create confusion and haze in whatever area it is present. People with this placement may xonstantly feel as if they dont understand whatever theyre reading or learning, may have been "invisible" in school, may have been average in school, good with creative works and imagination, people may not have afixed perception about you or may be veryconfused about you. Your teachers or parents may feel very confused about you understanding the concepts, some may even say you "look" stupid.
Like i have neptune aspecting my sun and ascendant and i had my teachers say i look blank and lost. I also got the title of the "quiet one" in 8th grade cause i was too soft spoken and rarely opened my mouth]
🧠pluto aspecting 3rd house, 9th house, mercury, degrees of gem 3°,15°,27°, in gemini in sag, in 3rd house, in 9th house.
I have mercury conjunct pluto and i always had people attack my intelligence by calling me names as a "joke"
#astro community#astro observations#astrology#astro notes#mercury in the houses#degree theory#pluto in the houses#saturn in the houses#neptune in the houses#3rd house#9th house#gemini#saggitarius#aquarius#capricorn
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Unseen Scars || Aaron Hotchner
Summary: Request - hiyaa, i was hoping you were willing to write another Hotch x bau!reader. Maybe one where reader is in an unhappy/ toxic relationship, maybe abvsive even. And Hotch helps reader learn that what her significant other is doing is wrong, and he even helps reader get out of the absive relationship. And somewhere along the way he says something along the lines of “i can love you so much better than them”.
A/N: Not sure if I love this one. Kinda tough to write. Let me know your thoughts below.
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,
Word Count: 4.2k
TW: Abuse (physical and mental), bruises, scars, talks of hitting, general CM triggers
You've been working alongside Aaron Hotchner for nearly a decade. Each year adding layers to a complex yet unspoken bond. As senior agents in the BAU you've shared long nights on cases. Him as your superior but respecting you as his equal. Both supported each other through victories and losses. You had the kind of mutual respect that's created from high-stress environments. Through it all there's always been an underlying current of attraction between you two. Subtle yet undeniable no matter how hard you tried to fight it.
When Hotch was married to Haley he was completely off-limits. It was a boundary you’d never dram of crossing. One you respected without question even as your friendship deepened. Then tragedy struck with Haley's death and while you were there to support him your own life was tangled in a serious relationship. By the time your relationship crumbled Hotch had started seeing Beth. And like the cruel joke life was, timing kept you apart once again.
Eventually, that relationship too ended for Hotch. But by then you had drifted into the arms of someone new. Someone the whole team disliked from the start. You brought him to a team dinner once and it was enough to know that no one approved even though they wouldn’t outright say it. He was arrogant, dismissive, and rubbed everyone the wrong way. But you were in a vulnerable place feeling lonely and somewhat unlovable after your string of failed relationships. He was there though. He was persistent and in a weak moment that felt like enough.
Despite the obvious red flags, you clung to the relationship out of a misplaced sense of necessity. You’d convinced yourself that any attention was better than the loneliness that echoed too loudly in the corners of your life. Yet, as the months wore on the relationship took a darker turn. It left you isolated not just from your friends and colleagues but from your own sense of self. You were slowly losing yourself to a man who hardly meant a thing to you.
You texted Hotch early in the morning. Your fingers hesitating over the keyboard before you sent a simple message: Running late today, see you by midday. The message feels sterile, too impersonal for the turmoil churning inside you. But you can't afford to say more. Not when every moment feels like a step through a minefield.
It's nearly noon when you finally push through the front doors of the BAU office with your mind rehearsing the excuses you might need. The bruise hidden beneath your scarf isn't just a reminder of last night's horror. It's a stark, physical manifestation of a boundary cruelly crossed. It wasn’t the first time he’d laid hands on you, but it was the first time it left a mark visible enough to demand a story. A story you hadn't yet managed to straighten out in your head. And if anybody was going to catch you in a lie it was Aaron Hotchner.
As you enter the building the buzz of the office feels both alien and overly familiar, a stark contrast to the silence you’d left behind at your apartment. You try to blend into the activity, nodding along to conversations you barely hear, laughing at jokes that don’t reach your eyes. You keep your posture deliberately casual, avoiding any movement that might shift your scarf and expose the truth lying so treacherously close to the surface.
From his office Hotch had been subtly watching your delayed arrival and your interactions with the team. His concern deepens with each forced smile and carefully measured laugh you muster. He's always respected your privacy. But today the instincts honed by years of profiling scream that something is terribly wrong with you. When the office finally starts to empty for the day, leaving behind the quiet hum of machines and the soft rustling of papers, he sees his chance to talk to you.
"Could I speak with you for a moment before you head home?" Hotch’s invitation comes just as you’re preparing to escape into the welcome anonymity of the evening. His voice is gentle. But there’s an undercurrent of urgency that stops you in your tracks. Reluctantly, you nod you head and followed him into the sanctuary of his office. The door closed softly behind you leaving you trapped with the one person who could unravel you with a simple look.
Inside his office the usual barriers of rank and protocol seem to fall away as he leans against his desk. His eyes were not just those of a supervisor, but of a friend—a protector. "I’ve noticed you’ve been different lately," he begins. His tone soft but firm. "You said you were running late today… but I can't help feeling there’s something more to it." His eyes briefly scan the edge of your scarf before meeting yours with a piercing intensity. "If there's anything you need to talk about, I'm here."
In that moment with the weight of his gaze and the sincerity in his voice the carefully constructed excuses crumble. The reality of your situation, so starkly isolated by his understanding, begins to seep through the cracks of your facade and you feel the first real breath of relief mixed with fear as you consider confiding the truth.
Hotch's eyes were filled with a deep, unmistakable concern. They stay locked on yours as he waits for your response. You feel the weight of his gaze, heavy with unspoken questions and worry. For a brief moment you consider continuing the charade. Brush off his concerns with a practiced smile and a reassurance that you're just tired, overstressed from the workload.
"Really, Hotch, I’m fine," you say. Your voice was steady at first but even as the words leave your lips they sound hollow. Unconvincing even to your own ears. His expression doesn’t waver. Those knowing eyes don’t buy the half-hearted lie.
"Are you sure?" he presses. His tone soft yet insistent. "Because if something—or someone—is hurting you, I want to help." He gave you that look. The one that he knew would break you down. The one that he used only when necessary.
You shake your head though. A simple reflex to protect your precarious world. But your facade is cracking, fissures widening under his gentle scrutiny. "It’s nothing, really. Just been a bit clumsy lately," you attempt to deflect again. But your voice wavers, betraying the turmoil inside.
Hotch's brow furrows slightly. His concern only deepening as he notices the strain behind your words. When you turn away, unable to meet his probing gaze any longer, a tear escapes trailing down your cheek. Your shoulders tremble with barely suppressed sobs. It was that damn look that had you falling apart. Who knew he could do that to you?
He doesn’t say anything for a heartbeat, allowing the silence to settle around you, heavy and expectant. With careful, measured steps, he closes the distance between you. You sense him nearby. His presence a comforting shadow in your moment of vulnerability.
“Hey,” Hotch’s voice is a soft whisper now. When he gently places a hand on your shoulder, it’s an offer, not a demand. You don't pull away and that’s all the confirmation he needs. With tender caution he pulls you into a hug. His arms offering safety, a haven from the storm you’ve been weathering alone. The warmth and solidity of him is grounding and as you lean into his embrace, the dam breaks. Tears were streaming freely now.
He doesn’t rush you nor does he bombard you with questions. He simply holds you, steady and strong, as you let the first wave of relief and acknowledged pain wash over you.
As Hotch's arms encircle you in a gentle embrace a rush of emotions overwhelms you each one more turbulent than the last. Instead of relief a sharp panic claws its way up your chest. The intimacy of the moment, the closeness, it all becomes too much. Your breathing becomes shallow, rapid, as if you can't get enough ai. Your heart pounds against your ribcage, threatening to burst.
"Hotch, I—I can't," you stammer. Your voice choked with rising fear. The room feels as if it's closing in. Each wall inching closer, trapping you in this raw, exposed moment.
He senses the shift immediately with his hold loosening just enough to let you breathe, but he doesn’t let go knowing you need a tether to the present. "Hey, look at me," Hotch says, his voice a calm, steady anchor in the storm of your panic. You barely manage to lift your eyes to his as you were caught in the whirlwind of your emotions.
"Take a deep breath with me, okay?" he guides gently. "In... and out," he continues, his own breaths exaggerated to model a slow, calming rhythm. His eyes are soft, patient, holding yours with a steadiness that feels both terrifying and comforting.
You try to follow as your first attempt is shaky and uneven. But Hotch is there. His presence a constant reassurance. "That’s it, just breathe. In... and out," he repeats with his voice grounding you in the moment. Slowly, the frantic pace of your heart begins to slow. The crushing weight in your chest easing as you synchronize your breathing with his.
"You're safe here with me," Hotch whispers to you. Each word carefully chosen to fortify the fragile peace you're beginning to feel. "Nothing is going to happen to you. I’ve got you. I promise." And you knew that it was indeed a promise. He’d never let anything happen to you if he could stop it.
His reassurances wash over you. His voice was a soothing balm to the raw edges of your panic. Gradually your fear subsides and is replaced by a weary relief. As your breathing evens out Hotch’s arms remain a gentle, unyielding presence around you. In this quiet space with the security of his embrace shielding you from the world outside you finally allow yourself to feel the full weight of your vulnerability—and the strength of the trust you have in him.
The panic attack recedes like a tide going out. It left you drained but inexplicably more grounded than before. Hotch holds you a little while longer making sure you're completely calm before he speaks again. "You’re not alone in this," he assures you as his tone is imbued with an earnestness that makes you believe him. That there might be a way out of the darkness.
As the last of your tears dry Hotch steps back slightly giving you space but keeping his presence comforting and solid. He ushers you to sit without words before pulling up a chair close to yours. His demeanor still radiating calm and concern. You notice his jaw tighten for a moment, a silent tell to his anger at seeing you hurting so openly.
As you finally voice the painful truth, "He's been hurting me, Hotch," the words echo starkly in the quiet office. Saying it aloud makes it all too real. A wave of embarrassment washes over you. Your gaze drops to your hands, fidgeting with the ends of the scarf. You can't bear to meet his eyes as you were afraid of what you might see there—pity, shock, or worse, disbelief.
Your fingers tremble as you slowly unwrap the scarf from around your neck, exposing the harsh evidence of your partner's violence. The bruises are stark against your skin. A palette of black and blue that makes your stomach churn. When Hotch sucks in a breath, a sound of sharp distress, you flinch, the sound bringing home the reality of your exposure.
"I'm so sorry," Hotch breathes out. His voice thick with emotion. You still can't look at him being too overwhelmed by a mix of shame and the relief of finally sharing your burden. The room suddenly feels too small. The air too thick with the weight of your confessed reality.
"You don’t have to go through this alone anymore," Hotch continues. His voice a steady, grounding force in the chaos of your emotions. Despite his words a knot of anxiety tightens in your chest. The vulnerability of the moment making you acutely uncomfortable.
Hotch's chair scrapes softly against the floor as he moves slightly closer. "I'm here, and we'll do whatever it takes to ensure he can't hurt you again," he says with a resolve that is both reassuring and overwhelming. You finally risk a glance up at him, meeting his gaze. Instead of the judgment you feared, you find only deep concern and a protective firmness. You shouldn’t have expected any less than that from him.
Seeing your hesitation and discomfort, Hotch reaches out slowly, giving you time to withdraw if you choose. When his hand gently takes yours, it's a lifeline, solid and warm. "We'll figure this out together," he assures you. His voice low and calm. "Let’s focus on what you need right now."
Tears well up in your eyes as you meet his steady gaze. Your fear of your partner bubbling to the surface. "I'm scared, Hotch," you whisper, your voice breaking with the weight of your admission. "I'm afraid of what he might do if I leave. He could do something drastic..." The possibility hangs heavily between you. A dark cloud of fear.
Hotch squeezes your hand gently. His touch reassuring as it always is. "We'll take every precaution," he promises with his tone imbued with determination. "You're not alone in this. We have resources and procedures to protect you. Trust me Y/N. You're safe."
His words were spoken with such a conviction that slowly penetrate the fog of your fear. The immediate comfort of knowing you're not alone, bolstered by Hotch's unwavering support, helps to steady the tumult inside you. The future may remain uncertain but with Hotch by your side you feel a spark of hope. A hope that perhaps you can break free from the shadows and rebuild your life once again.
The conversation with Hotch stretches late into the evening as a mix of detailed planning and moments of quiet support. Once the office empties and the building quiets Hotch makes a decision. "Why don't you stay with me tonight?" he suggests gently. "It's late and I'd feel better knowing you're safe." You agree, feeling a mix of gratitude and anxiety about the imposition. Hotch reassures you it's no trouble. Together you leave the dimly lit office, stepping into the cool night air that seems to offer a breath of tentative freedom.
The drive to his home is quiet, filled with the soft hum of the car and the distant glow of streetlights. Upon arriving, Hotch introduces you to his home with a warmth that's both inviting and respectful of your space. He shows you to the guest room making sure you have everything you need before he leaves. "Make yourself at home," he says. "We'll figure out the next steps in the morning." You give a grateful nod before heading to bed yourself. It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep after your head hit the pillow. You’d truly never felt safer than you had right then.
The next morning as you make your way to the kitchen, Jack spots you and his face instantly lights up. "You're here!" he exclaims before running towards you with arms wide open. You kneel down just in time to catch him as he launches into a big hug. His enthusiasm bringing a genuine smile to your face. "I missed you!" he chirps, and you can't help but laugh, the sound mingling with his giggles.
Hotch watched the interaction from the doorway and smiles warmly but also feels a pang of concern given your recent ordeal. As Jack wraps his arms around you, Hotch steps forward and gently places a hand on his son's shoulder. "Be careful, buddy," he says softly, his voice tinged with protective caution. "She's a little hurt."
Jack’s expression immediately shifts to one of concern as he pulls back slightly. His bright eyes scanning your face with a mix of confusion and worry. "Did I hurt you more?" he asks, his voice small, his usual cheer replaced by a serious, almost adult-like concern.
You shake your head quickly making sure to offer him a reassuring smile. "No, Jack, you didn’t hurt me at all," you explain while ruffling his hair gently. "I'm just a little sore, that’s all. Your hug is actually just what I needed."
Relieved but still slightly cautious, Jack nods and gives you a gentler, more measured hug this time. Hotch watches this exchange. His own heart swelling with mixed emotions—gratitude for the innocent care Jack shows and a renewed resolve to ensure that both you and his son are kept safe from any harm.
Later as Jack plays outside, Hotch joins you on the porch with a thoughtful expression on his face. He watches his son for a moment before turning to you. His gaze serious yet open. "This morning, seeing you with Jack… the way he lights up around you. It reminded me of something important I've been meaning to share," he chooses his words carefully as he speaks to you.
Your gaze lets him know he can continue. "I ended things with Beth a few months ago," he reveals letting the statement hang in the air for a moment to gauge your reaction. "It was the right decision. My heart wasn't fully in it, and I realized I needed to be honest with myself about my feelings."
You're taken aback. Your surprise evident. "Oh, I... I had no idea. She seemed so lovely," you reply trying to mask your confusion. Beth had always appeared perfect for him. She seemed kind, attentive, and good with Jack.
Hotch nods, acknowledging your point. "She was lovely," he admits, "but she wasn't what I was looking for. Not what Jack needed either." His gaze drifts towards his son, watching him play with a gentle smile.
He then turns back to you with a thoughtful expression. "We needed someone who could really be a part of our lives, understand us. Someone who already fits so seamlessly into our little world," he adds. His eyes held yours for a moment longer than necessary, hinting at deeper layers to his words.
The implication of his statement hangs between you, stirring a mix of emotions between the both of you. His revelation not only adds a new dimension to your understanding of his current situation but also subtly places you at the center of his thoughts. The gentle hint that you might be the answer they needed feels both overwhelming and heartening.
"I just want you to know that I'm here for you, especially now," Hotch continues. His tone sincere. "It's been a tough time and you shouldn't have to go through it alone. Whatever support you need. I'm here."
As you absorb his words, a sense of safety envelops you coupled with a budding realization of the importance of your presence in his life. Not just as a colleague but potentially something more. The careful balance he maintains in offering support while subtly revealing his personal reflections provides a comforting stability as you navigate the complex emotions of your current situation.
Several days had passed since you sought refuge at Hotch's home after breaking things off with your ex. Each day Hotch gently suggests reasons for you to extend your stay. His concern palpable. "Just until we’re sure you’re safe," he reassures you, but his eyes betray a deeper plea for you to remain longer.
One evening after Jack is safely tucked into bed Hotch opens a bottle of wine and pours two glasses. He hands you one with a soft smile that doesn't quite mask his underlying nervousness. "Thought we could use this," he says as he joins you on the couch. The house is quiet, the subtle buzz of the evening creating a cocoon of calm around you.
As you sip the rich wine, the warmth it brings is matched only by the comfort of the familiar space. Hotch breaks the silence first, his voice low and laden with unspoken thoughts. "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking," he starts. Hesitating as he chooses his words carefully. "About what’s important... about what I want for the people I care about."
He pauses before taking a deep breath before meeting your gaze with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. "I want you to stay here a little longer. Not just for safety but because it feels right having you here. These days with you and Jack... they’ve felt more like home than anything I've known in a long time."
The atmosphere shifts charged with an emotion that’s both tender and terrifying. Hotch continues with his voice softening, "I think we could be good for each other… if you're willing to see where this might go."
Moved by his candidness and the earnestness in his eyes you find yourself nodding slightly. Your own emotions mirrored in his expression. "I've felt it too," you whisper. "It’s easy with you. With Jack.."
Hotch reaches out, his hand covering yours. His touch warm and sure. "I can love you so much better than he ever did," he says with a confidence you hadn’t heard from him. His voice deep and resolute. Then, taking another deep breath, he adds, "I love you. I love you with everything in me. More than I ever thought possible."
His confession, raw and powerful, cuts through the last of your reservations. Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the depth of his feelings laid bare in the quiet of the night. This isn't just a moment of comfort. It's a turning point, a beginning of something profound and life-altering.
As you sit there, the night deepening around you, you lean into him with your head resting against his shoulder. "I love you too, Aaron," you admit to him. Your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. In the soft glow of the living room, you start to imagine a future that holds not just safety, but a shared life filled with love and understanding.
Two years have woven themselves seamlessly into the fabric of your life with Hotch and Jack. What began as a sanctuary in times of turmoil has blossomed into a full, shared existence, each day deepening the bond between you all. The BAU team, integral to your journey, has watched this transformation and played a part in nurturing your collective happiness.
On a sun-drenched Saturday, Hotch has orchestrated a gathering under the guise of a simple spring barbecue at a picturesque local park. The team is there, along with Jack, who’s energetically darting around with Rossi and Prentiss in a spirited game of soccer. Garcia is setting the mood with a carefully curated playlist while you and JJ are laughing over a shared joke by the picnic tables.
As the afternoon wanes with everyone sated by laughter and good food, Hotch taps his glass gently with a fork drawing eyes with the subtle, familiar command of his presence. The conversations taper off, leaving a blanket of anticipatory silence.
“I’ve spent much of my life dedicated to understanding moments—capturing them before they slip away,” Hotch begins, his voice resonating with a rare tremor of vulnerability. He looks over at you, his eyes shimmering with unspoken words. “But the moments I’ve cherished the most have been with all of you—my team, my family. And especially with you,” he turns fully towards you, taking your hand in his.
Jack, picking up on the significance of the moment, quiets down and moves closer. His young face alight with curiosity and excitement. Hotch’s gaze softens as he kneels in front of you. A gesture that pulls at the heartstrings of everyone present.
“Since you entered our lives, you’ve brought light into shadows I didn’t even know existed. You’ve made a house feel like a home again, and you’ve taught me that love isn’t just a remnant of the past but a promise for the future,” he continues. His voice thick with emotion. From his pocket, he produces a small, velvet box, opening it to reveal a ring that captures the late afternoon sunlight.
“Will you marry me?” His words, simple yet profound, hang in the air.
Tears stream down your cheeks, joyous and unrestrained, as you nod emphatically. Words were lost in the swell of emotions. “Yes, Aaron, yes!”
Jack jumps up, cheering, "She said yes!" His delight infectious bringing the team to erupt into their own cheers. Garcia captures every second, her lens fogging slightly with her own tears.
Spencer, who has been quietly observant, steps forward with a bottle of champagne. “To new beginnings,” he says. His voice steady but emotional, reflecting his deep affection for both of you. He pops the cork, and as the champagne flows, so do the congratulations.
Morgan playfully nudges Hotch, while JJ, ever the emotional heart of the team, hugs you tightly, whispering, “He’s never looked happier.”
You grin to one of your very own best friends. “I’ve never been happier.”
As the evening unfolds with laughter and shared stories, the sense of family deepens. The park was bathed in the glow of sunset, feels like a snapshot of a new chapter. One filled with love and the quiet promise of forever. Your heart, full and overflowing, knows this is just the beginning.
Aaron Hotchner/Criminal Minds: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: (Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @daily-evanstan @hardballoonlove @14buddy22 @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @mrs-ssa-hotch @panandinpain0 @viscade @kreepja @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @kajjaka @guacam011y
#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotch hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#ssa aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner hurt/comfort#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner oneshot#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner au#jack hotchner#x female reader#fem reader#reader insert#x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x y/n#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds aaron hotch#criminal minds
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TW: rape
Something I really appreciated about The Sunshine Court was its nauseatingly realistic depiction of rape culture.
Jean’s (repeated, violent) sexual assault isn’t treated as something horrific; in the toxic environment of The Nest, it’s normalized. The real story — Riko ordering 5 male players to rape Jean as a sadistic way to ‘break him in’ — is quickly twisted by his abusers; Jean is seen as a calculating vixen who slept his way to the top, for a Perfect Court number:
They continuously mock and taunt Jean with senseless jokes about it. There is an element of jealousy at play; Jean is a prodigy player, and, as he says himself at some point in the book, his older teammates didn’t enjoy being shown up by a child. They certainly enjoyed knocking him down a peg, though, by humiliating him and creating an illusion that he only got his spot on the team for sleeping around, not his talent:
Even one of his rapists, Grayson, continues this false narrative despite knowing the truth (or maybe he even convinced himself this narrative is the truth; that Jean ‘seduced’ him for a spot on the starting lineup):
Other ravens who don’t know the truth seem to quickly believe the narrative that a 16 yo chose to sleep with a bunch of his superiors for a personal gain; that is certainly easier than entertaining the thought that your teammates (friends?) are capable of something this horrific. Or maybe they simply don’t question it too hard; after all, Jean can’t tell his side of the story.
The rumors eventually spread outside the Nest. Jean’s reputation is tarnished to the point that this is one of the first things strangers on the internet learn about him:
The most heartbreaking detail about it all is Jean’s age. He was a 16 boy on the college team, the youngest player on the lineup; a foreigner who couldn’t even speak English when he arrived; an outsider. Despite the fact that his young age is something that even the ravens find particularly scandalous about the whole situation, Jean’s agency is never questioned. He’s not seen as a minor who was taken advantage of by older, superior men — and most of them are quite significantly older, having already graduated by the time Jean’s 19; Grayson seems to be the youngest of them and he’s at least three years older than Jean.
As many victims of SA, Jean had no choice but to continue living with his abusers side by side, pretending like nothing happened. Knowing there’s absolutely nothing he can do.
The first time someone voices concern over the questionable circumstances surrounding the whole situation happens in this conversation with Jeremy (to be fair, it seems like Jean's age isn't public knowledge but the ravens obviously know):
And as many victims, Jean internalized his experience as something he deserved on some level:
TLDR: Sexual assault is, unfortunately, a very big part of our culture; it’s not just something that happens in the dark alleys; rapists aren't just scary strangers. They're also your friends, peers, teammates. The way the Nest (and the general public as a whole) turns a blind eye at best and mocks and humiliates the victim at worst is a microcosm of how SA is largely treated in real life. It was genuinely fascinating to see it depicted so realistically, even though it made for a heavy read at several points. I hope Nora keeps up the good work, and we'll see further exploration of the topic and Jean dealing with his trauma in the next book.
#there’s also the queerness of it all#and the ways in which jean’s queerness is used as a tool to punish him#but that’s for a different post#anyway#thank you nora for doing a great job depicting this#i know many people compare it to a little life#which i did too lol but!#tsc was actually so much better in how it portrays SA and the ways in which it affects people#despite being way campier on the whole (a little life is dead serious)#aftg#all for the game#tsc#the sunshine court#the foxhole court#tfc#jean moreau#grayson johnson#lucas johnson#kevin day#thea muldani#jeremy knox#riko moriyama
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Dark Asteroids
TW Very Dark Themes of Human Experience & Nature.
Look at the house its in to show where it would show up, and its aspects to see how it influences different energies in your life.
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narcissus (37117) - narcissist. your side, or people in your life.
nessus (7066) - abuser, r@pist, predator. sexual abuse, obsession.
dejanaira (157) - ^ nessus victim. victim of these.
proserpina (26) - ruined innocence, abductions.
persephone (399) - ^ similar story. where time is not your own. held hostage, absence caused strife.
melete (56) - anxiety.
deprez (9795) - what makes us sad
pan (4450) - earthy carnal energy, lust, chase, desire.
maniac (228029) - inner maniac, where we do things other wouldn't, unexpected hobbies or passion.
lie (26955) - where you lie or manipulate, or get lied to about.
ate (111) - rushing to conclusions, delusional. respond to perceived, or real threats.
lucifer (1930) - where you are powerful. pride, egotistic. where you gain followers by manipulations. how you transform. why you look for revenge.
phaeton (3200) - dangerous behavior, people that got carried away, car crashes, accidents.
icarus (1566) - accidents, excessive risk.
nemesis (128) - enemies. vengeful self.
sado (118230) - sadistic dark sexual expression. borderline pain. thats that make us sad hard time expressing.
myrrha (381) - sexual relationships that go against natural law.
medusa (149) - your the prettiest, natural beauty can be corrupted by others. assault. punishment for something that isn't your fault.
karma (3811) - karmic connections, circumstances. fated.
tantalus (2102) - never getting what you want. always out of reach, temptation without satisfaction.
furia (194982) - our anger. what proves it. what attitudes bother us.
cassandra (114) - a gift & a curse. where your rejection ruined your life. where no one believes what you say
anubis (1912) - egyptian god of the dead.
grieve (4451) - grieve, grief, mourning, sorrow.
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for Nessus and pan to be in my 7th house i do attract those type of people. lustful, predatory men. but like in my actual relationships to.
furia is in my 4th house and i get really angry in the home, my mars is also there. narcissus is in my 4th house and and i have a narcissistic mother. my ancestors i work with seem to be very strong and aggressive to.
phaeton, dangerous behavior, accidents, and car crashes are prevalent in my dreams stuff like that and it's in my 12th house. also mania is there and spirituality, drugs, sleep/dreams, psychology could be where i have an unexpected hobby and passion others wouldn't.
icarus is another dangerous behavior, excessive risk. in my 5th house of parties, sex, creativity, entertainment etc. while deprez is there to that causes depression. as i read or write out celebrity chart analysis, everything puts together as lore, jhene aiko, jeffery dahmer, donald trump, etc. so as im writing mines out and its just mini asteroids, i love to see the depths, and art of my birth chart.
my lucifer is in the same house as my lilith the 3rd. also where my sun and venus is. and i do have really good mental manipulation skills, lying and using my words to scheme. but im only so aware because im not to much in my ego about it and never really liked to since a kid except when i needed to, but was always aware of that "power". nemesis is there and that is also my vengeful self. ate is also there in my 3rd house lol, rushing to conclusions, delusional. respond to perceived, or real threats. but these characters are very influnced in my school life also. im also a big trickster, love mind games, dark humor,etc.
tantalus in my 2nd house is frustrating. so as medusa in my 6th house of day to day activities & work environment. proserpina and persophone in my 10th and 2nd house is scary.
#astro community#astrology community#astrology notes#astrology#astrology observations#astrology readings#astrology chart#astrologer#pac reading#pac tarot#tarot community#asteroid astrology#astro placements#astro posts#astroblr#astrology blog#astrology placements#astrology signs#astrology tumblr#astro notes#astro observations#tropical astrology#asteroids#asteroid#dark astrology#dark asteroids#tarotblr#tarotcommunity#18+ tarot
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Ted Lasso Thoughts: Jamie & Apologies
I haven’t seen a lot of people talk about this but can I just say that even though Jamie was like a total fucking prick in season 1, he honestly didn’t deserve a lot of the treatment he got from the team, especially in season 3. It was honestly kind of a toxic work environment for him because I don’t think he thought he was allowed to set boundaries with other people and express his emotions completely. Like obviously he spent some of his time in therapy learning how to express how he felt with his father and how to set boundaries with him specifically, but I don’t think he ever really learnt how to do that with the team and everyone else in his life (Ted, Roy, Keeley, etc.) Also, I don’t see many people bringing this up either but it grates my nerves so badly in season 3 when Jamie brings up his concerns about Zava and they’re all just like “well, you’re being hypocritical.” But he’s not. Because he fixed his behavior. It’s honestly so unfair for them to constantly throw his old behavior back in his face when they’ve already “forgiven” him. If they actually forgave him, they wouldn’t feel the need to constantly bring it up. The team and the coaches’ opinion of him is very clearly important to him and how he reacts to others. When Isaac and everyone got mad he wasn’t scoring goals in 3x07, he makes this face like he’s a bit hurt and he disagrees with what they’re saying, but he never responds to that. However, if Jamie had acted that way to any of them….
I know Ted was really trying to help and give Jamie a second chance when he invited him back to Richmond, but he definitely needed to clear things up with him because it seems like Jamie is just letting everyone walk all over him? Like he may not be bothered with their behavior, but I honestly think that deep down he doesn’t think he’s allowed to be, which is such a fucked up notion. Just because you were an asshole before doesn’t give everyone else around you the right to be an asshole to you and only you later on. Like I really can’t find any instances of the team or coaches getting rude or aggressive like they do with Jamie, besides maybe when everyone tells Jan Maas to shut up.
I just really hate the way they handled this, especially considering Jamie is a survivor of abuse and likely has a hard time even recognizing toxic behavior, letting alone standing up for himself. Like they could have at least had one person acknowledge that Jamie didn’t deserve to get constantly yelled at (by Roy, by Ted, by his father, by his team mates). I’m not saying what happened between Isaac and Jamie was a common occurrence but the fact that nobody said anything? Along with the fact that nobody apologized or checked in on Jamie after the whole Zava ordeal?
I 100% mean it when I say that Jamie deserves an apology from almost everyone in the show. Did Jamie fuck up sometimes? Yes. Did he constantly over apologize for it? Yes. Did anyone apologize to him? Maybe a couple of times. But I can list at least 10 things off the top of my head that no one addressed or apologized for:
1) Keeley & Roy never apologized (at least on screen) for what they said at the charity auction.
2) Ted never apologized or addressed walking away from Jamie when his father was abusing him.
3) Rebecca never apologized to Jamie for getting rid of him with no reason or warning (the least she could’ve done was tell Jamie she was the one who did it)
4) The team (Isaac specifically) never apologized for blaming Jamie for their relegation when he literally did his job? He wasn’t even the one who scored the goal? And some of the shit they were mad about was super fucking petty too? Like Richard being super upset that Jamie cupped a fart and put it in his face but that’s literally just peak sibling behavior tbh, not really “bullying”.
5) Ted, Beard, and Nate never really addressed or apologized to Jamie for not stepping in when Jamie was getting shit on when he came back? Like instead of telling the team to knock it off, he just does his Led Tasso thing? Which might’ve helped but it didn’t really address how they were treating Jamie?
6) Roy never apologized for not coaching Jamie and acting immaturely. Like that whole humiliation thing was so weird and uncomfortable. I know a lot of people play off as some kinky thing, and maybe it was partially, but it’s also really shitty of Roy to that, especially considering the power imbalance between them. Like, Jamie was genuinely trying receive feedback and instruction from someone who’s meant to his boss/coach, and Roy uses his power to humiliate Jamie, knowing that Jamie was actually just looking for help, and then he refuses to actually give Jamie any feedback. Like he does eventually, when Ted steps in (for once), but he’s still kind of vague and insulting when he does it. And he never acknowledges what he does?
7) Roy never actually addresses the fact that he “forgave” Jamie during 2x11. This isn’t actually that big of a “Jamie deserves an apology” situation. But I think it Roy should’ve at least told Jamie he was forgiven. Like he just yelled “Fuck!” and left him? Idk I just think it would’ve been nice for Roy to actually talk to him and not leave him floundering for understanding.
8) The coaches never apologized to Jamie for ignoring his concerns about Zava and calling a hypocrite. I’ve already talked about this earlier so I’m not really gonna elaborate. But I also think they should’ve stepped in after Zava stole Jamie’s goal ( like actually addressed it, not have Roy do some half praise/half insult invite to private training)
9) Ted never apologized for the shitty unsolicited advice he keeps giving Jamie about his dad! Please for the love of fuck Ted, just be quiet on this matter. I’m not even going to in depth on this one cause it speaks for itself.
10) James Tartt Sr. never once apologized for all the fucked up, monstrous, evil, god-awful shit he did to Jamie. This man committed every single type of abuse (emotional, physical, mental, sexual). And while it’s EXTREMELY unrealistic for him to apologize to Jamie for any this, they should not have even considered having Jamie forgive his father if he wasn’t going to apologize in the first place.
Anyways, Jamie deserved better and I will be forever mad that he did not get all the apologies he deserved.
**Also I would like to say that this isn’t me criticizing the characters themselves, but their actions and behaviors. I don’t think that these are necessarily toxic people (besides Jamie’s dad and Zava), but that they just have some toxic behaviors, which has led to an unhealthy dynamic between themselves and Jamie. There are plenty of moments when the characters (mainly Roy) notice their behavior towards Jamie and correct it or acknowledge it, but there are also MANY MANY moments where they don’t. There are also times where Jamie seems very uncomfortable or upset but doesn’t say anything (which can be attributed to the unhealthy dynamic between himself and others due to the fact that he doesn’t think he has the right to point out other peoples flaws or the ways they’ve hurt and are hurting him)
#jamie tartt#ted lasso#roy kent#keeley jones#rebecca welton#zava ted lasso#james tartt sr#forgiveness#tw abuse#toxic relationships#toxic work environment
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Day fourteen of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: mentions of past grooming/abuse prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your life might be a little bit insane,” Tim says, now increasingly certain that Kon is just a living weirdness magnet and it is therefore his fault that every single Young Justice mission so far has been objectively buck-wild and borderline deranged. Previously he was just blaming the concentration of teenage superheroes with very different power sources and specialties and personalities all stubbornly jammed into one even more stubborn team, but “previously” did not include all the necessary data or any stories about gargoyle-riding supermodels possessed by dead gunslingers.
Tim has heard some stories in the community, for sure, but that is a story.
“I mean, Hex and Grokk aren’t that weird, are they?” Kon asks with a shrug. “Not any weirder than the Event Horizon was, anyway.”
“The what?” Tim asks, because Kon definitely said that like it was something’s name and not a metaphor for something or an actual event horizon.
“Oh, sorry, the Event Horizon was this club I used to hit up with some buds,” Kon says as he snags three more grilled cheese(s?) off the stack and stacks them to bite through all three at once like some kind of unholy and incredibly greasy and buttery club sandwich or something. Tim is somehow morbidly fascinated, vaguely grossed out, and sort of charmed all at once. “It was always moving, was the thing, so there was this handstamp thing we all had that we used to teleport over whenever we wanted to party. Neverending space rave, basically, so you didn’t have to worry about hours or last call or anything. Club kinda got obliterated, though, so I actually dunno know if the teleport trick still works or where it’d send me if I tried usin’ it now?”
It is definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim decides.
“Oh, cool,” he says, and because after tonight he officially does not trust anyone who Kon has spent time with in a party environment, much less at an intergalactic rave–“Do you still hang out with them? Anybody I’d have heard of?”
“Uh, not really. And . . . I don’t think so?” Kon shrugs. “Sparx, maybe you mighta. Otherwise it was Aura, Kaliber, Hero, and, uh–Half-Life. Also Hero’s dog was kinda around. Or maybe Hero was, like, Rex’s . . . uh, pet, or whatever? Or they were just roommates? Situation unclear there, honestly.”
“How is that an unclear situation?” Tim asks with a frown, a little confused by that one. That’s not–
“Rex was, like, this super-soldier war hero mystic type, and like, he could talk and whatever, so I don’t really get what was going on there,” Kon clarifies between bites of grilled cheese, which clarifies absolutely nothing. “I guess he was a WWII vet, but he drank from the Fountain of Youth or something? Also went to the moon once and used to be in the circus. Super-weird dude. Or dog, whichever.”
. . . . . . it is definitely, definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim amends.
“Never mind, I get it now,” he says, and Kon laughs, and then–hesitates, for a moment, and suddenly seems very interested in the last couple bites of his unholy abomination of a grilled cheese stack.
“Hero was cool,” he says, his tone a little–off. Tim pauses himself, and wonders why. And also wonders if this “Hero” guy is actually somebody he needs to put on his supervillain hit list, considering.
“Was that seriously his codename?” he asks, and Kon grins.
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Why König Was Bullied/ Why He Loved His Family
TW: Severe Bullying, Kids Being Cruel, Severe Social Anxiety, Growing Up Mentally Ill, Chronic Feelings of Being Unsafe, Unstable Environments Growing Up, Isolation, Loneliness, Self Esteem Issues, Anxiety, Social Anxiety,
I'm gonna say it. I think König actually had a great childhood home. He wasn't bullied because he was an abused child, he was bullied because he was a socially awkward kid raised by socially awkward parents. He was bullied because he was chubby (his mama loved giving him sweets) and because he was weirdly big and not in a hot way, just in a lumpish oaf sort of way.
On his own, König loved to keep his own company. He would make up imaginary worlds in his mind and play with stuffed animals and model trains. He read fantasy books, and became an advanced reader for his age. He loved learning as much as he could about the world around him, and his Oma nicknamed him 'her little Why' when he would never stop asking why things were the way they were. He loved to play outside most of all. Almost all his free time was spent outdoors, and he developed a deep love of nature, hiking and camping.
Kids are cruel, and one kid looking a little bit awkwardly proportioned and being awkward to boot was the perfect target. It didn't help that (especially in the beginning) he just liked to do his own thing, regardless of what others thought. He liked playing with his stuffed bears and rabbits at recess and he loved to read more than he liked to play sports. He was a bit awkward in both speech and body, growing too big for his body to adjust to too quickly and always a bit nervous to speak to others, leaving him a lonely child with nobody to play with. Nobody wanted to play with a boy who still played with stuffed animals or played imaginary games with himself. He was the kid who would call himself the dog when kids played house. He had to hold other kids' coats at recess just to be acknowledged.
König had a hard childhood due to the isolation. Kids got crueller when puberty set in, and they got more overt with their bullying. It didn't help that König hit puberty early and shot up like a reed. He grew strangely thick facial hair for a twelve-year-old, and people would pluck hairs out of his face when he wasn't on guard. After his growth spurt, shoves and nasty playground names became black eyes and rumours traded between classes. Everywhere he looked people watched him, talked about him, scorned him. He developed mild scopophobia, and the fear still lingers with him in adulthood.
König always had the potential of developing social anxiety. Just genetics, really. But growing up in a poorly equipped rural town didn't help. He didn't fit in, and for that he was tormented throughout life. Bullies would find out who his crush was and kiss them when he walked by in the halls. Girls would ask him out, and when he eagerly accepted they would laugh in his face. Worst of all was how they'd torment him for startling easily, and laugh whenever he physically lashed out in a panic. They loved to scare poor König, and did whatever they could to get a reaction out of him. He learned to keep his emotions guarded and to himself, but he still tears up when he thinks about how they once set his stuffed rabbit on fire after school. Whenever König felt like he'd learned to take it all, something else would come along and remind him that no, he would never fit in, and he would never be safe.
König grew up to be cold, harsh and cynical. He refused to let others play with his emotions. He became hardened as a man. However, deep inside of König, there was always a little boy who just wanted to read fantasy books and play with his stuffed animals in peace. He took to taking long hikes and camping outside when he needed time away from home. As a preteen, he was humiliated by how fat he seemed as a child, and horrified by how thin and lanky he became as he matured, so he began working out vigorously and filled out into a powerful, handsome young man. When girls would ask him out as a teen, he'd scoff and shoo them off, even though they genuinely wanted to be with him. He'd been burned too many times to know when someone truly wanted him. He didn't realize that he was a highly intelligent, strapping teen that had become a heartthrob among some of the other socially outcast children. Sadly, König would never learn, instead focusing on how his bullies would mock his height from afar (they'd long since learned that fighting a 200 lb young man who learned to fight from a war vet was not a good idea after all). But no matter how much König tried to get out from under their thumb, his bullies ruled his life.
But while school was a battleground, every day this brave little soldier would march home into his mother's open arms. His father would be there to remind him of how strong he was, how proud he was of his little soldier son. Home was his sanctuary away from the war outside.
König's mother was very much a housewife. A big, tall (at least 6'1) woman with broad arms and a powerful jaw, Annabelle Leichenberg looked more like a warrior princess than she did the sweet and doting mother that she was. She was always a bit awkward in the village, and many other mothers made fun of her for being harsh and dismissive in her exchanges of village gossip. She was a practical woman who had no time for their prattling nonsense. All her time was spent doting upon her loving family. She was a dutiful, determined woman who never backed down from a challenge. Despite working in the next village over, she would spend as much time as she could with König and her four other children. She would teach König to braid his sisters' hair, and played card games with him and his brothers late at night. She made sure his siblings never picked on him too much, and she spoiled him rotten with strawberries from the garden. To this day, König swears up and down that nobody makes strawberry tarts quite like his mother.
Contrary to his brash and outspoken wife, König's father, Fritz Leichenberg, was a quiet and studious man. He was the tallest man in the village by far, but he was a shy and soft man who preferred his books and his record player to the drunken sports rallies every Friday night, making the other village men consider him effeminate and weak. König's father was a professor of agriculture, and so preferred to spend time in his garden with his wife or reading stories to his children. He was surprisingly soft-spoken for his size, and seemed to always be shrinking away from conversation, preferring the company of his many houseplants to the boisterous drunks at the bar. Fritz liked to play piano on the baby grand in the foyer, and the family would gather and sing around him (Annabelle could never hold a tune, but Fritz never seemed to mind). Fritz was the major disciplinarian in the household, but it seemed his punishments were composed more of long lectures and discussions than spankings that the other children at school got. König was very close to his father, and learned from him the strength of being comfortable with his masculinity, and learned how to be gentle from him. He originally wanted to be a professor like him, but became a soldier when his grandfather passed away.
König had a good relationship with his siblings. He was the second youngest of five. The eldest was Friedrich, then Stephan and Lisa, then König (Alexander), then finally Klara. König's brothers were awkward, but they fought back hard against their adversaries. Lisa was actually rather popular among her age group, and she managed to keep people in her age bracket from targeting König as well. The brothers and Lisa tried their best to protect König, and even his younger sister ended up becoming a defender and prevented her classmates from targeting her brother. König loved his siblings, but even they could be cruel to him on occasion (particularly when they had friends over). However, they cared for him as a sibling, and they did their best to ensure he was always safe at home.
König also lived with his Oma and Opa (on his father's side). His Opa was a veteran, and taught all the children how to fight. He took a shine to König in particular, and tried his best to encourage his grandson to stand up for himself. His Oma was a bit more skeptical. She loved König, but she always worried about him. She would often try to get him to make new friends, but sadly these efforts were in vain.
So all in all, life was not all doom and gloom for König. He grew up a social outcast, but in a loving home. He's fiercely loyal to his family, and skeptical of anyone he does not consider to be of that ilk. He will always be paranoid, he will always be afraid of people watching him, and he will always have that horrible trait of being ruder than he intends to be. But, in the end, he was loved and raised in a good home.
Bonus:
On König's first day of school, his mother bought him a toy. It became a tradition that every first day of school, she would buy him something special. With all the years that passed, most of these things were broken or lost, but he kept the wooden train set his mother gave him on his very first day.
#writing#fan art#konig mw2#konig call of duty#konig cod#konig x reader#cod konig#cod mw2#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#cod mwii#modern warfare#tw bullying#cw child abuse#cw bullying#bullying#konig childhood
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Boldlyvoid fics set in the fall masterlist
Spencer Reid x reader:
Hypothetically -- 89k | reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.
friends to lovers, case-of-the-week style story
State of Grace -- 26k | While trying to find herself after college, Y/N moves in with her aunt in D.C for a while. Falling in love with the city, her aunt’s job and the cute co-worker she’s heard so much about
Redamancy -- 5.4k | The co-op librarian at the FBI Academy has been secretly crushing on the smartest agent in the Bureau, TA, Doctor Spencer Reid, and he’s been crushing on her too.
New Romantics -- 23k | She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet… they just so happen to be neighbours who aren’t afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Don't Let Me Go -- 6.4k | Reader comes home for her moms funeral and ends up falling for her dad’s co-worker
Red Alert -- 2.7K | For the 55th Anniversary of Star Trek (sep 8), the local bar is hosting a Pon Farr night…
Chip Taylor x Reader:
Forever is the Sweetest Con -- 6.2k | Reader’s dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get his daughter’s number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.
Spencer Reid stand-alone fic:
Found Family -- 3.4k | Henry’s best friend, Taylor, is struggling to take care of her mother’s schizophrenia, Spencer knows exactly how to help and it’s by getting her out of that environment while her mother gets help.
Halloween Fics:
Spencer Reid x reader:
Hallo-ween -- 4.1k | Reader has had a crush on him for the last 9 weeks of her semester, but on Halloween night she finally has the courage to walk up to him at the local bar and offer to go home with him
The Reidd Family -- 4k | For Spencer’s 40th birthday his wife and kids want to have a costume Halloween party
Raymond x Reader:
Alone Together -- 2.4k | Raymond moves into a haunted house and ends up sleeping with the ghost who lives there… only he doesn’t know that when you fuck a ghost you also become one.
Spector Spooktacular -- 1.6k | for their first anniversary, Raymond takes his girlfriend to a cemetery for a Halloween picnic… having dinner while giving the spirits a show
Franklin x Reader:
Trick or Treat -- 3.1k | Franklin and Reader are paired up for costume bowling as their costumes accidentally match. she’s a sexy cheerleader, and he’s a 70’s porn star… they spend most of the game teasing each other instead of trying to win
Chip Taylor x Reader
Rater R for Revenge -- 6.7k (murder tw) | Chip’s new neighbour doesn’t answer to her name… he remembers settling into a new town with a new name and no friends, so he helps her settle in. learning about her abusive husband, the reason she’s on the run and falling in love with her in the meantime. he loves her so much he can’t imagine someone ever hurting her and getting to live freely, so they plan to murder him.
Wes x Reader:
House Calls -- 2.5K | Wes asks his receptionist if she’s coming to the building’s Halloween party, letting it slip that he just wants to spend time with her outside of work.
#fics set in the fall masterlist#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#chip taylor#68 kill#raymond#suburban gothic
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